


Let Fall Your Terrible Pleasure

by Monna99



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Forced Prostitution, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Kakashi is not a nice guy in this, M/M, Non-con is for background characters, Rape/Non-con Elements, minor Maito Gai/Umino Iruka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-09-22
Packaged: 2019-05-19 14:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 28,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14875220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monna99/pseuds/Monna99
Summary: Kakashi had always known he'd meet his end at a sex club. This wasn't what he'd imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fair warning: Kakashi is not a nice guy in this. He's not really all that nice in canon either, but he's got very lax morals here although he does have a sort of code.  
> Also, this is a modern AU in a dark society. I added the rape/non-con tags just in case even a hint of it triggers anyone, but there's nothing too terribly explicit here in terms of rape. 
> 
> ... and it's very porny. And assholes abound. Kakashi is an asshole, but ... less of one?
> 
> Hope you like! lol

The day was not going as planned.

Kakashi stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the ostentatious, gold filigree-inlaid column adorning the reception area of _Etcetera_. The place spared no expense to be garishly pretentious and sensational but the low croon of sexy, bluesy jazz coming from the mounted speakers of the private, invitation-only club couldn’t drown out the sordidness.

“Please, sir, I’m office personnel. I don’t-”

The woman gasped as the intoxicated ape manhandling her jerked her against his bulging middle and groped her through her clothing.

“Fuck office personnel.” The man paused, thinking, and chuckled drunkenly at his own unintended witticism. “That’s what I’m gonna do. I’m gonna fuck the office personnel.”

“No, please no.”

It was a losing battle. The man had about a hundred pounds on the woman and she was still attempting to be affable, trying not to lose her job. 

Kakashi let out a silent breath, eyeing the display distastefully. This was precisely why he’d told Tsunade to send someone else. _Etcetera_ was, on the surface, a social capital club run by Nakajima Mioji, a ruthless, influential, and very wealthy businessman who operated under the motto that if his competition couldn’t be bought, it could be broken. The truth of the club was that it was where Nakajima sent the people he was trying to woo into business with him. _And that means letting people get away with just about anything _, he thought as the woman tried to unsuccessfully extricate herself yet again.__

__There were two big men standing guard at the large obsidian reflective double doors, but they would not intervene. They were present for the safety of the guests, not the employees._ _

__“Ayame!”_ _

The young woman - Ayame - jerked in the man’s arms and looked tearfully toward the tall ornate door that led to the interior of the club. 

A young man made his way quickly to the pair, an air of urgency to his loud, clipped strides. “Reo-san needs you immediately. Please go see to him while I help our guest.” 

Kakashi turned to look, mildly curious. No one intervened in club _Etcetera_. It was an unspoken rule. The guest was king and could take whatever, and whoever, he or she wanted and all without repercussions because Nakajima paid the police to look the other way. 

The young man who rounded the curved silver-paned reception desk looked rather ordinary. He donned the strict club code of black slacks with a white dress shirt and black vest reserved for waiters and wore his mousy brown hair pulled back into a neat, if uninspired, ponytail. The most interesting things about him were the scar that bisected his face and a pair of deceptive brown eyes that masked a wave of fury behind a polite façade. 

Kakashi observed more closely. He’d noticed the man once or twice before but never paid him particular attention. He was fairly new to _Etcetera_ , having only been around a handful of months. 

But the young man stood out now. In an enviable display of interpersonal skills and dexterity, he extricated Ayame from the pig and gave an unsubtle jerk of the head indicating she should get the hell out. All before the man in the suit began sputtering objections. 

“Allow me to see you to your car, Hande-sama. You were just leaving as I recall? Something about an important appointment with your wife?” 

__He sounded almost convincing with his subservient pose and diffident, helpful tone. Kakashi looked down and saw the young man very purposefully relax clenched hands._ _

__Hande straightened, furious nonetheless. “You goddamned mongrel,” he hissed viciously. “You won’t last another week here sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”_ _

__“I apologize, Hande-sama,” the man said and bowed low at the waist. “It was not my intention to disturb you.”_ _

__Kakashi had to hand it to him, he sounded genuinely remorseful, and the break in his voice indicative of fear was truly inspired. Except his back was too straight, his bow too stiff._ _

__Hande swayed and took a swipe at the young man, meaty fist cracking against the side of his head making him hit the floor hard and grunt in pain. “Learn your place. Don’t ever interrupt me again.” But that had done it. The beast was soothed. Hando stumbled his way to the entrance and into the shock of bright sunlight outside with help from the gorillas at the foyer._ _

__Kakashi didn’t take his eyes off the young man and saw when that stubborn head lifted and he glared after the man, fists clenched once again, taking deep, even breaths that did nothing to camouflage his desire for violence. Kakashi’s lips quirked. And that was when the young man seemed to realize he wasn’t alone. He glanced to the side, to the shadowed corner of the low-lit room and jumped to his feet as though electrocuted._ _

__“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t see you there,” he said, immediately and flawlessly sliding back into the attendant role._ _

__But Kakashi had already seen behind it. He opened his mouth but was beat to the punch._ _

__“Umino!”_ _

__The young man restrained his surprise to a twitch and turned to bow to Sekiguchi, Nakajima’s right-hand man, who stepped through one of the west doors leading to the secluded offices._ _

__“Get back to your post,” the lieutenant growled, looking suspiciously at the waiter as the man bowed again and wordlessly made his way back into the club._ _

__“You kept me waiting, Sekiguchi,” Kakashi called, diverting the man’s attention even as he dismissed all thought of the young man. “Let’s get to why I’m here.”_ _

__Sekiguchi grinned, wide and false and said with forced joviality, “Come now, we want to foster a friendship with you. Friends don’t simply talk business. Nakajima-sama invited you here because he was hoping you and Tsunade-sama,” he emphasized, pointedly glancing around and letting his expression fall very obviously on seeing her absence, “would partake of our … desserts.”_ _

__Another reason why Tsunade hadn’t come. She couldn’t mask her impatience and contempt for the club’s “treats”. Drugs, sex, and every kind of obscene, carnal perversity that a person could imagine was made available for the asking. The rules, such as they were, amounted to no killing, no interfering with other guests, and no talking about anything that happened in the club. And, given that Kakashi had already helped clean up after someone broke rule number one, he knew not all the rules were deemed equally important._ _

__“I’m not hungry,” he answered briskly, ignoring the way Sekiguchi’s expression tightened._ _

__“Nonetheless,” the man insisted amicably. “Nakajima-sama was unfortunately delayed so he won’t be able to make the meeting, but he … requested that you enjoy yourself.”_ _

__Wonderful. Kakashi kept his expression blank with effort. A wasted day and now he would have to spend a few hours at the club to make it look good. A request from Nakajima was best not ignored._ _

__He grunted acquiescence and his hand went to undo the button of his jacket. There was no help for it._ _

__Sekiguchi grinned victoriously and led the way._ _

__

__Kakashi stretched out his arm on the back of the settee and knocked back his cup of shochu carelessly, trying to block out the sounds of sex coming from various places around the extensive, dimly-lit room._ _

__The space was adorned with heavy drapes, gleaming black surfaces, wide, plush lounges and sofas and decorative pillows strewn throughout that served as sitting areas, all in rich, earthy tones with the low throb and purr of the saxophone as backdrop. The place invited decadence and debauchery. The couple just twelve feet to his right was particularly enthusiastic about it. The incessant moaning sounded pornographically fake to the point of having a comedic effect as bodies slapped together gracelessly. He could live with that, it was the pervasive and potent scent of sex that had his lip curling in disgust and made him signal sharply for another round. Thankfully it was still early in the evening and not many people had arrived._ _

__What the hell had Tsunade been thinking sending him in? He had no head for politics and this called for statecraft that he did not possess, nor did he care to._ _

__His drink was diverted from its intended drop when the charmingly nude waitress who was making her way over to deliver it to him was suddenly pulled onto a plush sectional couch by another woman wearing a strap-on and they began to kiss passionately. Kakashi sighed._ _

__“I’m sorry about your drink, sir,” he heard four minutes later as he was half-watching a bound and gagged dark-haired woman’s breasts being paddled. He didn’t understand the appeal, himself, but it was certainly there if her moans over the cracks of the paddle were any indication. “Shochu, correct?” the waiter prompted. Kakashi shifted his focus and saw a familiar scar. He tried to think back to the scene earlier in the day. What was his name? Uma? Not quite. Umino. That was it. The waiter bowed and proffered the new drink on a round platter._ _

__“You’re not naked,” he observed idly, taking the drink._ _

__The young man blanched and straightened, clutching the tray in front of himself in an unconscious defensive gesture. “No, sir. I’m a host. We don’t … umm. That is … we …” Ah, the dilemma. How to refuse a guest without refusing a guest?_ _

__Kakashi smirked. “Relax. I’m not asking you to get naked.” He let his gaze travel the length of that lithe, fit body. “Though I wouldn’t mind terribly if you did,” he added, tossing in a friendly leer for form’s sake._ _

__The young man’s shoulders loosened fractionally._ _

__“So,” he continued before Umino had a chance to escape, “this whole host thing is just a side gig to your day job of champion and protector, right?”_ _

__Umino blinked at him confused and Kakashi nodded subtly to the woman behind the bar. The woman to whom Umino had discreetly - if not discreetly enough - slipped an envelope with what Kakashi would swear was money. The relief and happiness on the woman’s face before throwing her arms around the young man certainly fit with that particular scenario._ _

__The host’s generic, genial smile froze on his face. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said between clenched teeth. “Sir,” he added belatedly._ _

__Kakashi took a patient sip from his drink never breaking eye contact and Umino began to sweat very slightly and turn the tray in his hands, edgy and uncomfortable._ _

__“It’s not against the rules to loan money,” the young man said finally, reluctantly. “And I don’t see how it’s any of your concern what I do with my earnings,” he continued peevishly, clearly despite himself because he winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth._ _

__“It isn’t,” Kakashi agreed easily, delightedly. “Just an observation. So you’re lending a desperate woman money,” he stated, watching as the young man stiffened again. “I see. Is that your side hustle? Charge too much interest to make a pretty penny off her?”_ _

__Kakashi took another drink to hide his grin as Umino flushed darkly._ _

__“I would never-,” he gritted out - too loud - before biting his tongue._ _

__“No?” Kakashi inquired lazily. “Are you going to ask her to repay you in … other ways?” He purposefully and insolently let his gaze drop to the young man’s crotch. “Well, I do appreciate the classics.” It was entertaining riling the man up, poking at him to see how far he’d be allowed to push because Umino appeared to have quite a temper under that prim exterior and self-righteous streak._ _

__Umino glared daggers at him and clutched the tray a little more tightly, fingers white with pressure. “You piece of-”_ _

__“Smile at me,” he interrupted, low enough that only Umino heard, “and come closer.” He didn’t give the young man a chance to decline and tugged him into his lap by his belt loops, boldly stroking his ass and putting his lips to the host’s ear. “We’re being watched. Behave yourself.”_ _

__Umino gasped at the feel of hands being too familiar with his body, but after that initial stiffening he nodded infinitesimally and leaned back, grinning coyly, arms thrown over Kakashi’s shoulders even as his eyes sparked with murderous intent. It maybe said too much about Kakashi that he hardened and lengthened under the young man’s ass at that look. He was such a delicious abundance of contradictions._ _

__“We could really sell this if we fucked right here,” he suggested, just to watch the boy blush and stutter. He was rewarded instead with fingers that pinched punishingly at his nipples making him jump and grunt in pain. “That’s not really my kink,” he gasped, pulling those spirited hands to safer territory._ _

__He turned his head under the guise of kissing Umino’s neck and saw the guards check their grim walk across the room. Problem solved._ _

__He pulled back and reached into the smooth lining of his inner jacket pocket and pulled out his money clip._ _

__“I apologize for taking unwanted liberties with your body.”_ _

__Umino blinked as Kakashi took out and stuffed a thousand dollars into his waistband, making very certain the guards saw, then pushed the host to his feet._ _

__“Looks like it’s time for you to get back to work,” he said easily, watching Umino frown. The man moved to yank the bills out of his pants, but Kakashi was swifter and placed a restraining hand on his arm. “Leave them. The guards will get suspicious and you don’t need that. And I’m sure you can find another woman to whom you can donate your earnings.”_ _

__Surprisingly enough the young man didn’t glare, he stared at Kakashi puzzled. “Why would you give me this?”_ _

__Kakashi shrugged, “It’s just money. I have plenty of it.”_ _

__“Yes, but …” The man shook his head._ _

__“Don’t hurt yourself thinking too hard,” he said coolly, rudely, “It’s nothing special.”_ _

__Umino looked at him, kept looking like he could see right through Kakashi, and Kakashi wondered what there was to see. He’d stopped looking a long time ago. He didn’t remember anything there worth seeing._ _

__“What’s your name?” he asked before he could stop the question. He shouldn’t have asked. What did the name of one busybody glorified busboy matter? They were a dime a dozen and this particular busboy was particularly busy. He wouldn’t last long. “Nevermind,” he retracted sharply, ignoring the young man’s amazed stare. Personal questions weren’t taboo, but people didn’t come to this club because they wanted to learn the employees’ life stories. “You may go,” he added dismissively when the host didn’t move._ _

__“It’s Umino Iruka,” the young man blurted, unthinkingly after a stunned moment. “My name,” he added and spun on his heel and walked away leaving Kakashi to stare after him._ _

__

__“You look so lonely, Kakashi,” a sultry, familiar voice purred in his ear a few hours later. He didn’t turn his head, knew the blond woman had been eyeing him for several minutes. “Mind if I keep you company?”_ _

__He glanced up as she skirted the plush, red velvet sofa. She looked as beautiful as ever wearing next to nothing. A black mesh halter-top tantalized at her nipples while her long golden waves of hair fell down her naked back to her waist and a brown leather miniskirt showed off her trim waist and long, shapely legs. She was stunning, no doubt meant to titillate._ _

__“Samine, what a pleasure to see you again,” he murmured as she leaned down to kiss his cheek, her lovely breasts on full display. He didn’t stop the hand that flitted down his chest teasingly._ _

__“I thought you might have abandoned us,” she purred seductively, taking a seat next to him, moving close so that her breasts brushed his arm and her subtle, enticing perfume wound around him. “I missed you.”_ _

__Kakashi turned his head to look at her, remembering the sight of her naked on her knees, lush red lips wrapped around his cock as he fed her his length._ _

__She let her hand drop into his lap and smiled coyly when she noted that he wasn’t unaffected. “I think he missed me too.” She licked her lips very obviously and stroked him through his pants, making him exhale slowly and drop his head back for a second, enjoying that hand on him before decidedly pulling away. Indulging occasionally was fine, but he had his own rules to follow._ _

__“Sorry, Samine. I’m here on business, and you’re simply too distracting for my peace of mind,” he made his tone remorseful, trailing his fingers over her shoulder, pushing her hair back. “I couldn’t possibly think straight with you anywhere near me.”_ _

__She laughed, making her chest shake, green eyes sparkling and he did have a true moment of regret for not pushing her onto her back on the couch and fucking her there and then, pumping his hard cock into her wet heat as he frigged her clitoris and kissed her breasts, sucking on those lovely rosy nipples until they darkened further from his mouth. “You’re such a flatterer, Kakashi. That’s why I like you. Come on, we can have a few minutes of fun,” she pressed, kissing his jaw and rubbing her chest against him._ _

__Kakashi pulled back and caught the hand working its way southward again. He was nearly fully hard but he stood, unconcerned about it. “Another time, Gorgeous,” he murmured as he watched Umino disappear past a door Kakashi was sure led to a restricted area._ _

__

__The back rooms were the only place where some semblance of privacy could be had. He wasn’t following Umino he told himself even as he headed that way, skirting a behemoth who was shoving a gasping, young, fresh-faced boy onto his cock. Kakashi didn’t stop. Whether the kid was of age or not was none of his concern. It was a rule, and one rule Kakashi knew for certain carried a death sentence for disobeying._ _

__The back rooms were unoccupied, just as Kakashi had hoped. They were rarely made use of, in fact, guests were discouraged from using them because Nakajima wanted his potential business partners’ weaknesses exposed so he could better control them._ _

__“I was just taking my break! I wasn’t doing anything!”_ _

__Kakashi paused at the raised voice. There was a wealth of indignation and affront in the tone, but it held an underscore of fear that gave too much away. That was the problem with inexperience. He took the next five steps to round the corner and saw Umino shoved roughly onto a console table, arms jerked behind his back and twisted until he dropped the small black object he was holding tightly, making him cry out in pain. He was a fighter though and kicked out at the man holding him, making the guard jerk back and release his arms but there were two of them and only one of him and he couldn’t take them both._ _

__“You know what’s going to happen now, Iruka,” the guard with the pockmarked, tattooed face said quietly, threateningly, with the certainty of a man who was going to make it happen. “You shouldn’t have been sneaking around here with whatever that thing is. I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to try to blackmail the boss.”_ _

__The young man paled and swallowed hard. “I wasn’t. I’m not trying to blackmail anyone.” He stooped to pick up the plastic rectangle and the goons let him, but they weren’t going to let him walk out of the club._ _

__“Iruka,” he heard called sharply, voice clipped and chastising, “where the hell have you been? I told you I needed that pen drive two hours ago.”_ _

__A second later, he realized with unhappy irritation that it was his voice that had rung out. Umino jerked around, too surprised to object when Kakashi stepped forward briskly and pulled the box from his hand before anyone could stop him, flicking a chamber on the box open with what would appear like long familiarity. The thing had the look of an old, clunky USB drive._ _

__The two guards turned to him, the pockmarked one frowning, glancing between him and Iruka._ _

__“That’s yours, Hatake-sama?” the shorter of the two asked, suspicious, but still respectful._ _

__Kakashi frowned forbiddingly. “Didn’t I just say it was?” He turned to Umino who hadn’t let fear color his expression, but his hands were trembling very slightly giving him away. “Did it really take you this long to find my drive?” he demanded, undeterred. He was purposefully slurring his words and made a good show of swaying on his feet. “I told you exactly where I left it. I said it was somewhere near the back rooms.” He huffed in feigned disgust, then leered at the man. “Well, but don't worry. Your mouth makes up for what you lack in brains.”_ _

__Umino stiffened, whether at the insult or simply Kakashi’s addressing him he wasn’t sure but thankfully he was as adaptable as Kakashi had hoped and easily adopted the farce. “I’m so sorry, sir. I was looking for it, I promise. Please forgive me, please don’t tell Nakajima-sama. I need this job.”_ _

__“Hmph. I suppose I can’t expect any better from the help,” he said dismissively, turning to the guard. “Well, now that I have it, I’ll need to have my car brought around.”_ _

__The taller man’s muscles loosened as he uncrossed his arms and finally nodded slowly. He wouldn’t interfere with a guest, naturally. “Of course, sir,” he replied easily enough, though he threw one last, dark look Umino’s way that suggested the young man would be under further scrutiny before both men made their way out._ _

The moment they were gone, Kakashi straightened and studied the small black square more closely. He’d seen issues like this before. Few people would recognize it for what it was. “What exactly are you doing with a camera in _Etcetera_?” he murmured, mostly to himself. He wasn’t expecting an answer and wasn’t disappointed. He studied Umino, the man’s frank, assessing gaze, his honest eyes, the subconscious little tell he had of putting his hands at his waist (on a belt that he wasn’t wearing) when he was uneasy. Like now. A young man with morals working at _Etcetera_. A young, idealistic (because Umino clearly was) man who possessed integrity and who’d obviously had some form of physical training based on how he moved and his reaction to violence. Not much of a mystery really. That meant it was only a matter of time - sooner rather than later - until others figured it out as well. “Nakajima would kill you just for this.” 

The young man swallowed audibly but he raised his head, chin high and glared in defiance and helpless fury at Kakashi. “What do you want for helping me?” he asked. He’d probably meant to make his voice cold and emotionless. It shook instead. 

__Kakashi was impressed nevertheless. Nakajima was known for his cruelty and perfect lack of morals. Umino’s end would be long and especially painful, yet despite knowing that he was managing to hold on to his dignity. He did not beg, did not plead for his life. Kakashi was unwillingly drawn. He flipped the minuscule camera back and forth between his fingers watching as Umino helplessly followed the movement with his gaze. What did he want? It had been so long since he had entertained the thought of wanting anything at all. “Here.” He tossed the camera back to Umino. “I want you to not get caught again.”_ _

__He turned and walked away, leaving Umino gaping behind him._ _

__“Wait!”_ _

__Kakashi sighed and let the man catch up, the dim lighting creating nefarious shadowed figures all around them._ _

__“I don’t understand,” Umino said haltingly like he was calling into question the wisdom of looking a gift horse in the mouth. “Why are you doing this? Why cover for me if you don’t want anything?”_ _

__Well, he couldn’t very well say that he had no idea himself. Maybe it had to do with the fatalistic resignation in the young man’s eyes. He hadn’t expected that anyone would save him, despite his own willingness to save others. Kakashi shrugged. “It’s not for any noble reason so you don’t need to bother feeling indebted.”_ _

__He took another step away but stopped at the hand that gripped his arm._ _

__“Do you know what I am?” Umino asked hoarsely._ _

__Kakashi studied those pale, drawn features. Umino was a brave - or very stupid - man to go up against Nakajima in the very city the man owned. The city in which the young man’s own employers would happily feed him to the dogs for what he was doing. “You’re a cop,” he said finally, starkly. “Undercover. A rookie who thinks he might actually stand a chance at taking down a kingpin who’s been in power for longer than said-rookie has been alive.”_ _

__Iruka blinked in surprise fingers digging into Kakashi’s arm. “You got all that from a camera?” he asked in disbelief, not offended at the words._ _

__Kakashi’s lips quirked. “No. I got all that from you.” He stepped close and raised his hand, thumb stroking over the scar on Iruka’s nose, liking that the man did not flinch back from him. No, not bad at all, he mused pensively. “You’re unwilling to stand by in the face of injustice or cruelty, and you have an inimitable innocence, a fearless goodness that shines in a rank place like this.” He let his fingers trail down and trace the curve of Iruka’s lips. “It’s what’s going to get you killed.”_ _

__He saw the other man swallow, saw the erratic beat fluttering at his throat. “Not if you help me,” Umino whispered._ _

__Kakashi didn’t laugh in his face and walk away like he should have. He thought about it, thought about throwing his own life away for something good for once, and nearly did laugh then. No, he was no humanitarian. But, he glanced at Iruka, took in the hope, the ridiculous optimism shining in clear brown eyes and felt something stir inside himself that was as unfamiliar as it was darkly, nebulously intoxicating. Finally, he smiled, a slow, dangerous curving of lips and he saw a belated wariness and unease enter the young man’s eyes. “Not if I help you,” he agreed slowly._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, chapter 2! This time it's Iruka's POV. This'll answer a few questions. And bring up more.

Iruka wearily climbed the three stories to the ugly blue wooden door that led to his apartment, uncaring of the noise he was making at three-thirty in the morning. The roach-infested dive had been home for nearly a year as part of his cover to establish history before he was hired at _Etcetera_. He pulled the small silver key and inserted into the lock, stopping to verify that the small, immaterial scrap of white cloth fluttered to the floor. It did. No one had been inside his apartment. 

That was the good news. And he’d take any good news he could get now. He tried not to think of dull blue eyes staring past him sightlessly as he’d wiped up too much blood. Just another Monday at that godforsaken place. 

He pushed at the door, wincing as it swung open with an unhappy shriek and stepped past the threshold, carelessly kicking off his shoes and walking straight to the dingy mattress laid out on the floor of the bedroom, letting himself fall onto it face-first, eyes screwed shut tightly to keep tears from seeping out. He took several, silent gasping breaths and managed to control the urge to howl in grief and fury. It would be over soon. He was going to get his kids out of that goddamned place. And if one beautiful, broken, deadly, silver-tongued man had to die for it to happen … Iruka turned onto his back and threw an arm over his eyes in the dark room … so be it.

 

Iruka’s head jerked up and he shoved to his feet, hand reaching for his service weapon as the front door flew open with enough force that it nearly embedded into the adjacent plaster wall. 

“Iruka!”

“Jesus!” He took a shaky breath and slowly lowered the loaded gun onto the rickety table, trying to calm his thundering heart. 

“Iruka, your text message said it was urgent. Are you all right?”

“Gai,” Iruka groaned. He sat again and dropped his head into his hands. “I could have shot you! And you almost gave me a damn heart attack. Christ. Close the door.”

Gai immediately checked his overlong stride, glancing back at the door which now hung somewhat awkwardly on its frame. Wonderful. “Your door is misshapen,” the Green Beast observed. He went back and shoved it into its frame, throwing the deadbolt. “I apologize for startling you. I was headed this way already, but when your message said it was urgent …”

Iruka exhaled and let his muscles relax a bit, flicking the safety and reholstering his weapon. “You didn’t have to break the sound barrier. I have an update on the case.”

Gai nodded but held up a hand gripping a slightly greasy brown paper bag. “As long as you’re not in danger, it can wait. For now, I bring offerings, my friend.” 

“Is it blood pressure medication? Because I could use some right about now.” Despite his acerbic tone, he was touched that the other man had rushed to his side.

“Better,” Gai assured brightly, ignoring the sarcasm. “It’s food. From your favorite unethical restaurant,” he added, unable to keep the disapproval from his voice.

Iruka laughed, pulse near normal levels again. “Serving meat does not make them unethical.”

“If you say so,” he replied haughtily.

“Thanks, Gai,” he said sincerely, smiling, and he wasn’t thanking him for the food. 

The other man gave a short nod and set about pulling a few dusty dishes from the dilapidated cupboards. He blew on the plates and gave them a quick wipe down, setting himself to serving. “Gyoza and Pad Thai for you,” he murmured, setting the food in front of Iruka and taking a seat on the only other chair available with his own steaming plate.

“Gai-”

The man shook his head. “Eat first.”

Iruka pushed the plate aside. “I’m trying to tell you something important. Hatake Kakashi agreed to help us!”

Gai’s lips twisted unhappily and he sighed, setting down his chopsticks. “Yes, I was afraid of that.”

Iruka blinked surprised. “What?” He stood, unable to sit still with the amount of nervous energy coursing through his body. He paced the four feet of space available in the microscopic apartment, running an agitated hand over his head. “Why? This is good. This is what we wanted.”

“It is,” Gai agreed, unenthusiastically. “But he’s a dangerous man, Iruka. More than you know.”

“He’s a killer,” Iruka said dismissively. “I’m aware.”

“Don’t make light of it, don’t underestimate him,” Gai snapped, making Iruka pull up short. “I’m a killer.” He kept talking when Iruka would have objected. “But there is a distinct difference in our approach to killing. I kill in self-defense or to protect others. Hatake is … savage. You cannot trust him.”

“Of course not,” Iruka returned sedately, startled by Gai’s disquiet. “This isn’t about trust. We agreed to use him.”

Gai sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, pained. “You realize we could be making a deal with the devil to get rid of a few lesser demons.” He picked up his chopsticks again. “That could backfire on us faster than this food.”

Iruka’s lips twitched, too many sleepless nights and energy drinks catching up with him. “You seem certain he’s going to betray us.”

“It’s only a matter of when,” Gai confirmed grimly. “But he’ll hold out until we take down Nakajima. He won’t want to be left holding that bag.”

“Mmm,” Iruka replied noncommittally. He turned back and sat, starving now that the smell of good food was flooding the apartment. He picked up his chopsticks and proceeded to shovel noodles into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew. He hadn’t eaten anything since the stale bagel washed down with lukewarm coffee from that morning. “I need to set up a meet with him,” he announced around a mouthful of gyoza.

Gai was staring at him, appalled at his table manners and Iruka laughed, nearly choking. “And I’ll be with you,” Gai stated after a moment, tone brooking no argument. 

Iruka hummed and took a few more bites of food, thinking. “I was counting on it. Your files are sealed and you’re not assigned to this case. If anyone looks into it, they’ll have a hard time discovering you’re a LEO. Hell, my case still doesn’t officially exist,” he added, lips curving down unhappily. Secretiveness was normal in a dark op, but Iruka had been finding one too many snags in the operation. For one, he didn’t have a separate undercover identity. That endangered him unnecessarily and would have endangered the people he loved as well if there had been any of them left.

Gai set his food aside and leaned forward, hands flat on the table, expression pained. “Iruka, I’m sorry I didn’t get to you before they steamrolled you into this. If I hadn’t been gone, I would have stopped them. I would never have allowed-”

“I know, Gai,” he cut in gently. He didn’t want the other man taking responsibility for what was not his doing. “But you’re helping me now and that’s what matters. In any case,” he added briskly, “we still have Lt. Mitarashi as backup if things go wrong.”

Gai drummed restless fingers on the scarred wood of the table and shook his head. “Anko’s hands are tied in this matter. You were never inputted in the system as an officer, Iruka,” he looked grim at that, “which means you don’t get the protections afforded to other uniforms. You could disappear tomorrow and the only three men who have proof of your link to the department may decide they don’t want to answer difficult questions.”

Right. They would destroy any record of his having been in the academy, of having passed all his tests. It wouldn’t be that difficult. No one would question it. He hadn’t graduated with his class after all. He’d been scouted while he was still in the academy. A very important undercover assignment, he’d been told. Refusal had not been an option. That was fine, Iruka’d had no intention of refusing.

Gai’s hands clenched into fists and his expression became foreboding. 

“Hey.” He put his hand over the larger man’s. “I’m not gonna just let them off me when I become an inconvenience. We’re going to expose anyone doing business with Nakajima and drag them down too.”

Gai turned his hand, caught Iruka’s desperately and brought it to his mouth, kissing his palm once, twice, then shifting warm, slightly chapped lips to the suddenly wildly fluttering pulse at his wrist. 

Iruka exhaled sharply, not resisting as Gai pulled him to his feet.

“I should have been here, Iruka,” he said softly, pulling him close. “I’ve missed you so much.”

They were in regular contact but Iruka didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “It was your choice, Gai,” he reminded the other gently because there was no blame to lay here.

“I know,” Gai recognized hoarsely. “I know, but …” he pulled back slightly, hand cupping Iruka’s cheek. “I didn’t want it to cost me you. I’ve only ever wanted you to be safe.”

Iruka turned his head and kissed Gai’s hand. “And I want to help people.”

“But there are so many other ways-”

Iruka shook his head sharply. “We’ve been over this, Gai. This is what I want. This is how I want to do it. I tried the other ways and I got tired of seeing my kids-!” He shook his head, falling silent, letting his head fall onto Gai’s wide shoulder. Always there, always so strong.

The Green Beast closed his eyes in resignation, but he didn’t release Iruka, didn’t stop his fingers from slipping the tie of his hair free, groaning as their hips brushed, tantalizing.

“This isn’t going to solve anything, Gai,” he said tiredly. 

Gai shook his head and kissed Iruka’s temple. He buried his nose in the loose fall of Iruka’s hair and didn’t deny it, yearning for what had once been. “Does that mean you don’t want to? Do you not desire me anymore?”

Iruka swallowed feeling Gai’s hardness against his belly, breath catching at the remembered pleasure he’d known from those talented hands. 

Gai pressed closer, shoved his thigh between Iruka’s, brushing firmly against Iruka’s hardening cock and Iruka gasped and let his head fall back, accidentally smacking it too hard on the wall behind him, but that pain was insignificant when compared to the stimulation of Gai’s hands on his ass, hitching him up effortlessly so that he wrapped his legs around the other man’s waist, feeling that thick cock prod at his backside. “Jesus, Gai.” It had been too long. He raised his arms and buried one hand in Gai’s hair dragging that mouth closer, moaning when firm knowledgeable lips met his and ravaged his mouth so skillfully he barely noticed as Gai turned and headed to the bedroom. 

 

“We need to meet,” he demanded without preamble as soon as the other man picked up the phone.

“I live to serve,” Kakashi drawled after an astonished moment. “And what’s my reward? I’m particular to blowjobs, FYI. Both giving and receiving,” he added wickedly.

Iruka pressed his fingers hard to his temple. He’d known dealing with the quicksilver man wouldn’t be easy. “We need to talk about-”

“Pricing,” Kakashi interrupted too brightly.

Iruka frowned. Kakashi had said the number he’d given was secure. Was someone else listening in?

“You’re right, of course,” the man continued nonsensically. “We do need to settle on a price. I mean not to brag but, shut up, Orochimaru, it’s not bragging if it’s true,” he heard Kakashi call out, voice muffled. “As I was saying, doll, my … size has been known to intimidate some people.”

Iruka took too much pleasure in hanging up on the idiot. Short-lived pleasure because he still needed to talk to him. He gathered his composure and dialed again.

“Iruka,” the voice rumbled as soon as the call connected. It absolutely did not give him goosebumps. “Tell me where and when.”

 

Iruka had been sitting impatiently, drumming his fingers on his knee when the quiet knock sounded. He stood and took a deep breath, steeling himself before turning the knob.

The tailored suit Kakashi wore emphasized the breadth of his shoulders and his slim waist. He had the top button of the jacket undone displaying a lighter heather-gray vest underneath, the combination of which did unsettling things to Iruka’s heart rate because no matter how immoral, the man was also breathtakingly good-looking. And the bastard was well aware. 

Iruka glared, hand tightening on the doorknob as Kakashi winked at him knowingly. 

“Is that a gun, Iruka? It’s gotta be because you don’t look happy to see me.” Kakashi smirked and leaned into the doorframe, too close. “After I came all this way for you too. I think I’m hurt.”

Iruka lifted his chin and made no motion to remove the weapon. His shoulder holster didn’t provide the easiest access but the belt holster had stayed behind at the academy and he wanted to keep the gun close. He’d be a fool to blindly trust Kakashi. 

And Kakashi looked, if anything, approving. “Gonna invite me in?”

Iruka raised a coolly disbelieving eyebrow. “I didn’t realize criminals waited to be asked in.” 

Kakashi’s lips twitched in amusement. “Generally, we don’t. Someone somewhere must have taught me some manners.”

“Too bad they didn’t teach you it was wrong to murder people.”

Kakashi stilled, then smiled pleasantly. “But I’m so good at it,” he drawled stepping inside and shoving the door closed with the hint of a bang.

Iruka didn’t jump but his heart stalled for several beats. “Good thing you’re on my side then,” he managed finally, warily.

“Good thing,” Kakashi murmured in agreement. He walked farther into the apartment and looked around casually at the cramped space. “Where’s your backup?”

Iruka stepped back feeling much too crowded in the six hundred square foot apartment. He moved to the fridge and grabbed two pale ale beers setting them on the table. “What makes you think it won’t just be the two of us?”

“I give you more credit than that.” Kakashi loosened his tie and rolled his shoulders. “Though maybe I shouldn’t. Arranging to meet at your apartment is either very ballsy or almost too stupid to believe. I haven’t decided which,” he informed the younger man before picking up the beer and taking a long swig. 

Iruka absolutely did not watch his throat work. “This isn't my apartment. It’s a cover place.”

Kakashi looked around and sighed in relief. “Thank god. This place is a complete dump.”

“Yep,” he agreed easily, amused. “I hope you didn’t park close by,” he added, remembering the man’s sleek silver Maserati Quattroporte.

“Tell me you’re joking.” Kakashi rubbed at his temples at Iruka’s silence. “Great. Do you have any idea how much it’ll damage my rep to have my car stolen?”

Iruka looked down, pretending to be duly concerned, hiding a smirk.

“Well, but don’t worry yourself, Iruka-chan. Killing them will take care of that problem easily enough.” Iruka’s head jerked up in alarm and Kakashi’s lips twitched. “Kidding,” he sing-songed lightly.

Of course he was. Iruka looked away and put more distance between them, back against the window. It was a good reminder not to get too friendly.

Kakashi took another drink, eyeing his sidearm. “P227 .45 caliber Sig Sauer.” He ran his thumb over his bottom lip, looking a bit too interested. “You have nice stopping power there, and it’s a semi-automatic giving you good range. But,” he glanced into Iruka’s eyes, “I still prefer the heft and reach of my Desert Eagle .44 magnum with the extended magazine. The Sigs jam a little too often for my peace of mind. It’d be a shame for that to happen at a vital moment,” he added slyly.

Iruka shifted, not bothering to wonder where Kakashi had gotten a gun. There were all too many possibilities. Not the least of which - depressingly - was from his own department. “It’ll fire just fine,” he answered warningly and Kakashi raised both hands in surrender, duly impressed. 

“You still haven’t told me anything about who else I’m meeting here today. I don’t like going in blind, you know. Learned my lesson the hard way,” he explained, one finger tracing the scar that bisected his eye. It was indicative of a truly unjust world that the scar only added an air of mystery and danger to Kakashi rather than detracting from his looks.

“Gai is black ops, ex-military. He’ll be a hell of an asset. I’d much rather have him watching my back in that place, but there’s no way to bring him into the club without getting made in a minute.”

“You did get made in a minute,” Kakashi reminded him, indelicately.

Iruka lips tightened. “I told you, those were calculated, concerted incidents to gauge your reactions. I wanted to decide for myself if I could trust you.”

“Decide for yourself,” Kakashi mulled quietly. “Meaning that you’d already gotten the green light from someone else? Iruka,” he purred, admiring, “did you have me followed? Is that why you decided you could trust me?”

“Not trust you,” Iruka corrected sharply, looking away, hands white-knuckled on the sill, “work with you.” 

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed, thinking fast. No one could accuse him of being slow, but in this case, he may have outsmarted himself. “The Jolly Green Giant,” he said finally and knew from the careful non-expression on Iruka’s face that he was right. “Damn,” he laughed softly. “That was you? I thought he was following me on Karatachi Yagura’s orders.” He shook his head in disbelief. “Here I was planning on killing him after I found out what the Bloody Mist wanted with me.” He grinned easily, lips curved into something that wasn’t amusement, making Iruka tense, hand shifting closer to his weapon. “Not to worry,” Kakashi soothed, only managing to sound more sinister, “I wholeheartedly approve.”

The cheap plastic clock hanging crookedly over the small refrigerator ticked away in between the elongating beats of silence. Iruka looked away wishing he hadn’t told Gai the meet was an hour later than it actually was. But he’d needed to make sure Kakashi wasn’t thinking of backing out before he exposed the other man.

“Well,” Kakashi murmured, turning to Iruka and licking his lips. “Whatever shall we do to while away the time?”

 

Iruka breathed a silent sigh of relief at Gai’s blockheadedness when his ex arrived thirty minutes before their meet time. He shot Iruka a displeased look upon seeing Kakashi already there.

“Mr. Smith,” Kakashi greeted in patently false confusion. “What a surprise seeing you here.” He frowned, then raised his eyebrows in exaggerated shock. “Don’t tell me that’s not your real name. Why I would never have guessed.”

Iruka bit his lip against an inappropriate laugh as Gai stepped forward, unamused, to shake Kakashi’s hand. 

“The deception was necessary, Hatake,” the big man said easily. “I needed to ascertain you would not hurt my compatriot and that you would be open to … negotiation.”

Kakashi smirked at Iruka, letting his gaze touch every inch of the young man’s frame. “Well,” he drawled, “it depends on what you’re offering.” He managed to keep his grin in place but it took on a slightly strained quality as Maito’s grip tightened. And kept tightening. “Kidding,” he finally muttered, extricating his hand with effort.

Maito’s answering grin was fierce and fiercely protective. 

“Quite a grip you have there,” Kakashi observed and shook out his hand very obviously. “I don’t know why you need me,” he grumbled at Iruka, “you’ve already got all the muscle you need.”

“That’s right,” Iruka agreed easily. “There’s only one thing I need from you.”

“Other than my complete devotion? Because you have that.”

“Enough with the gimmicks, Hatake.” Iruka leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re not helping me because you give a damn about me.”

Kakashi affected hurt. “Why, Iruka, of course I care about you. What man wouldn’t immediately decide to take on a multi-billion dollar murderous yakuza organization for you after you batted those pretty eyelashes at him?”

“You’ll help me because you want out,” Iruka continued between clenched teeth. “You have morals, Kakashi. There’s some good in you. I’ve seen it.”

Kakashi stopped smiling. The sudden blankness of his face was unsettling. “What have you seen?” he asked, quietly, dangerously. The lax joker was gone and Iruka got a glimpse of the savagery that pleasant mask camouflaged. “A child like you stumbling blindly into a den like that? You haven’t seen a goddamn thing.” He stepped forward, crowding Iruka, uncaring when Maito tensed, eyes narrowed. “There’s more blood on those floors than come and there’s too much fucking come. I should know, I’ve deposited plenty of both there myself. So,” he asked softly, darkly, “what have you seen, Iruka?”

Iruka refused to be intimidated, though Kakashi did strike a spectacularly effective figure doing it. He didn’t look away, cataloging the violent impulses he saw in those cunning, perilous eyes. He told himself he was disgusted by them. “I’ve seen enough of the collateral damage to know I need to stop it. I need to stop him.” 

Kakashi stared. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. “Are you ready to die for your pipe dreams, Iruka?”

It took Iruka a second to realize that Gai had one of Kakashi’s arms crushed tightly but the silver-haired man didn’t react, barely seemed to notice. He didn’t take his gaze off Iruka. 

“Yes,” he breathed.

“No,” Gai growled and his hand tightened.

Kakashi opened his mouth, looked at Gai, then seemed to think better of it and shifted back instead. “Do you mind?” he asked lazily, mask sliding back into place seamlessly, so seamlessly Iruka was left dizzy.

Gai sneered and released Kakashi. 

“Hatake-”

“I want to speak to you alone,” Kakashi interrupted. “No bodyguard present.”

Iruka blinked and glanced at Gai who shifted to face Kakashi, his heavily-muscled frame nearly dwarfing the other man. 

“No,” his friend countered fiercely. 

Kakashi shrugged and stepped back, unconcerned. “Fine. Best of luck, Iruka. I’ll send flowers to your grave.”

“Wait!” Iruka called, he lunged desperately and caught Kakashi’s arm. They would fail, guaranteed, without him. “Just wait.” He turned to Gai, seeing the other man’s grim expression. “Gai,” he said softly, starkly, “I am not yours.”

He hated that it made the other man flinch because he didn’t want to hurt him.

“I don’t belong to you. You do not get to tell me which risks are acceptable for me to take. I will talk to Hatake alone, and I’ll relate to you the agreement we reach. Later.”

Gai scrutinized him and didn’t move for a very long time. “Iruka-”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he said quietly.

Gai nodded sharply and turned to Kakashi, holding his gaze for a small eternity before turning and walking away stiffly.

“Your boyfriend is a mite too protective to be effective at his job,” Kakashi said coldly, staring at the door through which Gai had disappeared in distaste.

Iruka closed his eyes and rubbed at them in irritation knowing Kakashi was right. “I’ll talk to him. And he’s not my boyfriend,” he refuted absently, automatically.

“No?” Kakashi raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “My mistake. I must have imagined that he was about a second away from pissing on you to mark his territory. Not that I’m judging, mind. I can work with it if that’s your kink.”

Iruka could feel himself flushing angrily and he turned away. He wasn’t angry with Kakashi though. As much as he hated to admit it, the man was right. Gai would throw the entire operation away if he thought there was too much risk to Iruka. That couldn’t happen. He needed to see this through. He would need to … filter things for Gai.

Kakashi chuckled, seeming to read his mind. “I’ve always said lies are just another way to spice up a relationship.”

“I find it hard to believe you’ve ever been in a relationship.”

“Oh, I haven’t, but I’ve heard of them. Lengthy, boring things that end in tears and the other person taking the dog.” He grinned. “Maybe that’s why I’m not considered relationship material. Too many dogs.” He looked pensive. “And here I always thought it was the cheating.”

Iruka could feel his lips twitch despite himself and grabbed the nearest chair, letting himself fall onto it, drained. Months of lies and being someone else, of seeing things that turned his stomach to think of them and whether any of it would be worth it all hinged on this man. There was no one else in that twisted, repulsive place with Kakashi’s abilities and access who would be willing to help them. And even Kakashi might turn his back. Iruka swallowed, hands clenching.

“Tell me what you want in exchange for helping me.”

Kakashi paused as he reached for his drink. He picked it up after a moment, rolling the chilled bottle between his hands. “That all depends on what you expect me to do.”

Iruka nodded.

“But before we get to that, I’m here to find out if you’re worth helping. If you’re worth betting on.” He shifted forward, bracing his hip on the table. “Tell me why you need me.”

Iruka stood and made the too-short circuit around the room again, restless. “I need you to get dates, locations and times when Nakajima meets with police brass.”

“Oh, is that all?” Kakashi drawled, amused. “And how do you propose I come by that information? Need I remind you,” he added with a less than pleased look, “that others have tried and ended up with their limbs scattered all over the Pacific.”

“The months I’ve spent working there haven't been idle. I’ve collected the guards’ schedules and their rotations. I know where all the cameras are located on the exterior of the building, the club, and the worker’s areas.”

Kakashi failed to be impressed. “Congratulations, you’ve collected nothing useful to me.”

“How can you say-”

“I had the guard’s schedules and their rotations and the locations of the cameras on first three floors, including the two sublevels after two weeks. None of that makes a damn bit of difference because Nakajima keeps his strictest security on the fourth and fifth levels and only his most trusted goons get access.”

“Which you could be,” Iruka revealed softly, knowing the other man wouldn’t want to hear it. Kakashi tensed but didn’t interrupt. “I need you to become part of his operation. You’re on the outskirts but it’s only because you want to be. He would trust you. Nakajima’s been gagging to get you on his team for years now. I hear things too,” he said at Kakashi’s raised brow.

The silver-haired man grimaced. “I’d thank you not to say ‘gagging’ and ‘Nakajima’ in the same sentence ever again. I have enough trouble sleeping.”

Iruka ignored that. “If we collect finance documents and Nakajima’s little black book I can take those things to a judge I trust. Nakajima doesn’t own everyone in this city. That’ll be more than enough to arrest him on and it’ll get us started on securing a warrant for his businesses and freezing his assets,” he said hurriedly. “We can take him down.” He could almost believe now that it was possible.

Kakashi’s lips quirked. A Mona Lisa smile that doused Iruka’s enthusiasm, but his next words were prosaic enough. “You’re not a safe bet for me,” he murmured thoughtfully. “You’ve already proven it by getting involved with every damned sob story you stumbled onto.”

“I told you that was calculated,” Iruka bit out sharply. He didn’t like having his decisions questioned by a criminal. No matter how smooth and well-spoken that criminal could be. “The people I’ve helped in there have given me information. Valuable information. And they trust me. That wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t taken the risk. It was necessary.”

“It was stupid,” Kakashi countered tactlessly.

“Let me guess, you would have just tortured the information out of people,” he shot back curtly.

Kakashi grinned. “It is effective.”

Iruka grimaced and shook his head. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you need to get better at lying,” Kakashi informed him softly, straightening and walking to Iruka, licking his lips as he reached out to trail his knuckles slowly down the other man’s cheek. Iruka casually dropped his hand to his sidearm and Kakashi withdrew with a pout. “Killjoy,” he muttered. 

Iruka rolled his eyes and turned away.

“So,” Kakashi continued, “tell me what I can expect out of our … relationship.” He paused a moment and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “My, my, Iruka, you’re going to be my very first relationship. You get to pop my cherry. Be gentle,” he breathed against Iruka’s ear as he sidled up behind him.

Then shifted back swiftly, in time to evade an elbow to the gut for his trouble as Iruka shoved him away.

“Be serious for once!” he snapped.

Kakashi grinned. “But I’m very serious, Officer. I want to know your angle.”

Iruka took a deep breath to keep from reaching for his weapon. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Kakashi didn’t speak, only shoved his hands in the pockets of his stupidly expensive charcoal dress slacks and waited.

“I want this city to be free of the poison that man breathes. Do you have any idea what he does?”

Kakashi didn’t look away.

“He sends his goons to the schools to wait for the kids and enlist them. Ninety percent of the kids who attend this district fall under the poverty line and those monsters entice them with money and toys. They turn the boys into mules for their goddamn drugs! They end up in jail, or hooked on their own supply and in jail, or hooked on their own supply and dead on the side of the road like so much trash. And the girls,” he stopped and rubbed a brisk hand over his eyes, “you know what he does to the girls,” he finished quietly, starkly. “That’s why you’ve never slept with Haruno, or Yamanaka, or Hyuga or any of the others they took there against their will. You know. You knew,” he finished, the words ringing like the somber peal of a death knell, like condemnation.

Kakashi looked out the window at the fading sun. Of course he’d known. The girls with the dead eyes. Girls who might have flourished, who might have laughed and dreamed and had a future if not for one Nakajima Mioji. He didn’t ask how Iruka knew he’d never touched them. It seemed he had collected some valuable information. 

Iruka walked over and sat at the table and stared at his hands, heartsick. “So you see, Kakashi,” he said after a lengthy pause. 

Kakashi twitched.

“I will face anything, do anything, to save my kids.” He raised his head, gaze direct, unflinching. “No games. No angles. Will you help me?”

“You’re asking me to die,” he replied simply, brutally honest because if there was one thing he could be, it was brutal, “for kids I neither know nor care about.”

Iruka moved then, walked closer to Kakashi, walked into his space, searching his eyes. “Don’t you? Weren’t you the one who killed the man responsible for hospitalizing Sakura-chan? Weren’t you the one who broke Akagi’s arm after he struck Hinata-chan?”

Kakashi stepped back. “Those were unrelated matters. And frankly,” he added, in a poor attempt at humor, trying to distance himself, “I’m surprised you’d endorse my use of violence. You being an enforcer of the law and all.”

“Like I said, Kakashi,” Iruka repeated, not backing down, “I will do anything. And if their way - if your way - is the only way to stop them …” Iruka paused and took a breath. There would be no going back after this. He knew that, but he didn’t stop. “If that’s the only way, I’ll play by their rules.”

Kakashi stared at him. Looked long and hard and finally nodded slowly. “Yes, I believe you will, Iruka-san.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap, i updated in 3 days?!?!?!
> 
> That's lightning fast for me. LIGHTNING. I'm usually a very slow writer. The credit really goes to you all though because the reason I posted it as a one-shot originally is that I hadn't written a single word other than that first chapter and that's usually indicative of a dead-end in my writing, but responding to your comments really helped me get my ideas into focus.
> 
> I'm having a lot of fun writing this story! yay!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, fair warning ... this will not be everyone's cup of tea. Ummm ... I don't even know what to say about it. I've been working on it for a bit and I don't think I'm going to be adding anything to this part so -- here it is!

“Yes, Gai,” he was saying as he made his way to his front door. The aged, grained wood had bounced under the force of three firm knocks, the reverberations of which still sounded through the matchbox apartment. “I’ll have those to him as soon as he’s back.” He turned the knob to find Kakashi on the other side and waved him in, signaling for his silence as he listened to Gai -- yet again -- share his reservations on the assignment. “Look, I need to contact my handler, we’ll talk later. Yes. Gai--” He managed not to sigh in frustration. “Okay, I will.” He disconnected, trying not to look frazzled, and tossed the phone onto the counter, uncaring of the loud clatter. Damn thing was practically indestructible.

Kakashi raised an eyebrow. “You’re not telling the boyfriend I’m here? My my. Keeping secrets from loverboy?” He grinned at Iruka’s eye roll. “Here. I come bearing gifts.”

Iruka stared at the coffee cup and donut Kakashi pushed into his hands. “Not the gifts I was expecting,” he said lightly, frowning thoughtfully at the cup. He didn’t think Kakashi had any reason to drug him. After a moment of staring into the inky depths, he took a cautious sip and bit into the donut, closing his eyes in bliss. He might be dead any day, what the hell did his sugar intake matter? Breakfast of champions right there. 

Kakashi smiled quizzically, studying him. “Did you just wake up?” He shifted forward until he was standing too close until Iruka could smell his cologne, something subtle, almost elusive that reminded him of cool days and sweet nights. Happier times. 

He jerked back instinctively as the other man raised a hand toward him. 

Undaunted, Kakashi reached forward again, and slowly pushed some hair behind Iruka’s ear. “I like seeing you with your hair down.”

It took him a second to realize he was simply standing there, holding his breath. He _had_ just woken up. It was only eight in the morning and he hadn’t gotten home until after three. He’d hardly gotten any sleep, and he’d completely forgotten to put his hair up as usual. Somewhat self-consciously, he pushed back his hair now, then shook himself mentally, cursing Kakashi’s ability to render him speechless. He cleared his throat, stepping back and taking another sip of his drink to cover the lapse. “Do you have what I need?” The second the husky words were out of his mouth he could have kicked himself, but the other man restrained himself to a smirk and a wink.

“Of course,” Kakashi answered evenly and reached into the inner lining of his suit. He pulled out a thick, folded paper, handing it over.

Iruka set his food down and dusted his hands on his sleep pants. He cleared the table and placed the paper there on the center, spreading it open. Iruka leaned closer and tried to ignore Kakashi’s body heat as the man looked over his shoulder. He placed glasses at the corners of the blueprints to keep the paper from furling. 

The layout of _Etcetera_. Seven floors neatly outlined and labeled. The top floors were not detailed, only a rough sketch, but the rest…. It was impressive work, certainly. “Do you have drafting training?” he asked curiously. Iruka, for one, would not have been able to draw up professional-looking blueprints on engineering paper.

Kakashi smoothed the paper down and shrugged. “Just a jack of all trades.”

 _Jack of all trades?_ Not hardly. This was precision work. “Did you want to be an architect?” he persisted. 

Kakashi shook his head and shot him a look of amusement. “Why so curious? Are you trying to humanize me? To forge a bond?” His lips quirked. “Are we going to talk about our feelings now?”

Iruka shoved his elbow back, gratified when Kakashi grunted. “No, you ass, it was a legitimate question.”

“All right, all right.” The silver-haired man caught his elbow, keeping him close. He studied Iruka, mulling something over and proposed quietly, “A question for a question, then.” Those dark eyes stared unflinchingly into his own and Iruka wondered, suddenly, at the wisdom of this. Who was getting too involved with whom?

“Okay.” He might regret it, but he truly wanted to know. Wanted to know what there was to Kakashi beyond the criminal and the killer.

“Yes,” Kakashi answered simply, “I was interested in architecture at one time in my life.”

Iruka stared, hardly able to believe it. Wasn’t entirely sure he did believe it. “What happened?”

Kakashi’s thumb caressed his forearm. “One question, sweetheart, and it’s my turn.”

“Right. Okay.” He tried not to look like he was bracing himself.

Judging by Kakashi’s huff of amusement, he failed. “What’s your favorite color?”

Iruka blinked for long seconds then sighed, exasperated. Kakashi was simply unbelievable. Just when Iruka thought they were on the same frequency ...

“What?” Kakashi asked, all innocence. “I really want to know.”

“Silver,” he answered finally, grudgingly.

“You don’t say,” the other drawled, running a hand through his hair. 

Iruka rolled his eyes, ignoring the flush that wanted to stain his cheeks. “Of course, it must be all because of you,” he said dryly, sarcastically. He pulled away and packed up the blueprints. He didn’t know how helpful they would prove, but he’d take anything that might give them an edge. “You weren’t at the club yesterday,” he couldn’t help adding after the silence stretched. He picked up his coffee again. He was going to need the caffeine for the long day ahead. 

Kakashi plucked the drink from his hand and took a sip, his lips touching the same place as Iruka’s, and why the hell he even noticed that was beyond him. He looked away. “You noticed. I’ve been keeping busy in other ways.”

“What ways?” Iruka asked warily. 

“Drowning sacks of puppies and kittens,” Kakashi returned lightly. “And I’m overdue for the next batch.” He handed the drink back and leaned forward - too quick for Iruka to dodge - and placed a kiss on his cheek before turning and walking out the door, leaving Iruka staring after him, eyes narrowed. 

 

The moment he finally heard back from his handler, Iruka threw on his olive-green windbreaker and made for the door. The grim sights that greeted him as he walked to the train station no longer shocked him. He wondered if it was his imagination or if the streets were truly becoming more grimy, more indifferent, and harsher. Every day there seemed to be more junkies, more drug dealers, younger streetwalkers. He wondered what Kakashi’d thought when he’d seen this. The other man had walked this same path when he’d visited Iruka’s apartment three days ago. Had he simply seen his business booming? 

He kept his gaze fixed directly ahead, ignoring the scantily-clad women - and men - who called out to him shouting ever-more bawdy (and desperate) comments and suggestions. The financial slump was even hitting the prostitutes hard. 

His hands stayed loose at his sides, alert but with his head down to avoid attracting any undue attention. A sudden, piercing wail made his steps slow involuntarily, but he clenched his jaw and hurried on. He couldn’t save everybody. No matter what Kakashi thought, Iruka had no delusions about that. For now, he was focused on his mission. 

The platform held the usual suspects of shady drug dealers, more hookers, and the thieves who’d snatch the clothes from off your back. He avoided the darkened corners and shifted away from the old man lying on the ground who pawed at his shoes, begging for another hit. He felt again for his train fare, making sure it was secure and pressed forward with the rest of the congregation as the train arrived, right on time. 

 

Unlike the train, Hidan was not on time. Iruka paced. He was aware his short, angry strides telegraphed - loudly - his irritation. Didn’t matter. His handler was a no-show. Again. He didn’t acknowledge that underneath the irritation was something akin to fear. When he’d been pulled from the academy, he’d been given explicit orders on the procedures to follow while undercover, and he’d been told what channels were open to him. His handler was one of only two people who knew of his assignment. His life was in those hands. In the hands of Hidan, whom Gai had spotted cozying up to Sekiguchi just two days ago. That was not good news. The number of people Iruka could trust was drying up, and it hadn’t been a large pool to being with. Why was Hidan involving himself with Iruka’s investigation? Handlers did not go undercover themselves. If Hidan flipped …

Hell, who was he kidding? Of course, Hidan had flipped. The man was either in with Nakajima, or trying to get in with Nakajima. Whatever the case, he wouldn’t want his link to Iruka discovered, which meant Iruka would become a liability as soon as Hidan got what he wanted. And apparently what he wanted was to get in bed with the largest, most deadly Yakuza organization in Japan. 

_Gods._ Iruka cracked his knuckles, restless energy coursing through him. It wasn’t just Hidan, though that news had hit him like a direct shot from a fire hose to the face. No, it was something else. Just last night ... 

_The wisp of white material did not fall when Iruka unlocked his door. He stared, breath stalling in his throat as he turned the knob, but there was nothing -- nor any other indication that the door had been forced. Maybe the daylight would reveal more; the shadows were mostly kept at bay by the exterior hallway light, but not enough for a clear picture. And he didn’t have the luxury of standing out there and examining more closely. His service weapon was inside, hidden in one of the wall vents in his bedroom. He wished he had its reassuring weight in his hands now, but a waiter wouldn’t have access to a gun. There’d be no explaining that away._

_The knob turned easily and he didn’t let himself hesitate, opening the door and stepping through. Nothing. No sounds. His bathroom and bedroom doors were open and he could see with one glance that he was alone in the apartment. That was the only bit of good news because even if no one else was around now, someone had been there. Who? There weren’t that many possibilities, the most likely one being the goons from the club. Only, he doubted they’d go through so much trouble for a waiter, and if they suspected something they wouldn’t bother investigating. Those apes were about as subtle as a bullet through the head, which was exactly what he would get the moment they decided he was hiding something._

_Nothing he could do about that now. He was being surveilled. Not ideal, but at least he was tipped off. Easy enough to keep his head down and pretend not to know. Unfortunately, the gun would need to remain in its hidden location for now, no reason to test fate by taking it out. He had to assume whoever had been here had installed video as well as auditory equipment. He clenched his teeth as he considered another possibility._

_Kakashi. He could certainly be behind the break-in, Iruka wouldn’t put it past him._

_Not the moment for that though. Forewarned meant forearmed and he was both. He kicked off his shoes at the genkan as normally as possible and stumbled wearily inside his apartment like any other tired, overworked employee going through the motions of a weary life._

Iruka was jerked out of his thoughts at the heavy scraping of the door as it was shoved inward. He tensed, but it was only Hidan, an hour late to their rendezvous. He gritted his teeth, once again wishing he had his firearm. 

“Umino.” Hidan was grinning widely, gaze glassy and not-wholly focused as he strode with unconcerned ease across the darkening, empty warehouse. 

Fuck sakes, was the man drunk? “Hidan.” His voice was clipped. 

“I’m late, I know, but it’s for a good reason.”

“Yeah?” Doubtful. Iruka watched closely as Hidan shoved his hands in his pockets. He’d been around Gai enough to know -- even before he himself started carrying -- what that slight tell-tale bulge at the waistband meant. Hidan was armed. There was certainly nothing uncommon about a police officer carrying, but Iruka now felt at a disadvantage knowing what he did and having no weapon at the ready, himself. “I have my report.”

Hidan sighed and made a moue of distaste. “Listen, Iruka. You’re a good kid, I can see you think you’re doing good work, but you’ve been under long enough now to know that there’s some shit in this world you can’t clean up.” The tone was impatient, irritated. “You’re right in the middle of it--”

Iruka watched as Hidan’s hands pulled free of his pockets and he let them fall loose at his side. Within easy reach of his gun. His heart began to pound, but he was able to keep his expression controlled. _Shit. Shit._ Looked like Hidan might be getting ready to tidy up loose ends. Iruka being the loosest end he had. He was thinking fast, and let his expression betray fear, wishing it was all an act. “I’m sorry, Hidan,” he interrupted, sounding almost desperate. “You don’t know how hard this job can be. I mean, I tried to stick to the straight path …” he let his head hang, looking ashamed, and swiped the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his nose. 

He could practically feel Hidan’s sudden, gleeful surprise. “Oh, Umino,” he said with false solicitousness, “you know that being a drug addict …”

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “Are you going to tell the captain? Will I be fired?”

“Well …”

“Please don’t say anything, Hidan-san.” The plea nearly stuck in his throat, but he was able to push past the nausea. “I’m sorry about the drugs, it started off because I needed a little pick-me-up. Just a little.”

Hidan nodded in understanding. “But it didn’t stop, did it?”

Iruka let his shoulders drop dispiritedly. “No,” he admitted. “Even undercover, there’s a lot of bills to pay. You know how it is, right?”

He didn’t have to look at the other man to know there would be a sinister grin on his handler’s face. How deep did this go? Well, he might actually get the chance to find out. The wheels in Hidan’s brain were turning fast and his hands relaxed, edging away from his waist. “I do know,” he agreed, making no attempt at being discreet now. “I may be able to help you, Umino.”

Iruka raised his head in pseudo surprise. “What? You’d do that?” He let his throat work and breathed out sharply in relief. “Thank you. Thank you. I’ll do anything.”

Hidan smirked and pounded him on the shoulder, friendly and triumphant. “There’s someone I need you to look into. See what you can dig up.”

“Someone--?” Iruka clenched his jaw on what he’d been about to say, “Sir, do you mean you don’t want me investigating Nakajima Mioji?”

The deceptively slender hand squeezed his arm. Hard. “Come on, Umino. This is your shot to prove yourself. You’re not gonna do that by just tattling on one man. But if you do this …” The dark eyes shone with avarice, “Yeah. If you do this, you’d be set for life. You’ll make some good friends.”

Good Christ. Iruka didn’t react outwardly and bowed his head as though in thought. “Who do you want me looking into?”

The man patted his back, nearly shoving him forward with the force. “Atta boy. You’re making good decisions.” He pulled out his phone and showed Iruka a photograph. 

Iruka studied it, letting his expression betray surprise. “Oh, yeah,” he said easily. “I’ve seen him at the club. Some rich guy.”

Hidan snorted. “He’s a hell of a lot more than that. Hatake Kakashi. He’s Senju Tsunade’s right-hand man, and now he’s nosing around _Etcetera_.”

“Nakajima asked for dirt on him?”

Those light eyes narrowed. “You ask a lot of questions, Umino.” 

Iruka barely kept from swearing and hunched his shoulders. “Sorry, sir.” If Nakajima was suspicious of Kakashi, it did not bode well for how useful the man would be. Naturally, that was his only concern. He stared at the photograph a bit longer. It was a shot taken inside the club. If Iruka’d had any doubts of the level of Hidan’s involvement with Nakajima, this would have settled them. In the photo, Kakashi was looking directly at the camera, unconcerned, lips twitching up in a wry grin. “I’ll get everything I can.”

 

An expensive print of Saturn Devouring His Son by Goya hung in the lobby of the glass and steel, blunt industrial behemoth that served as their headquarters. Kakashi studied the rather gruesome thing and wondered if it was only Tsunade’s twisted sense of humor, or if it was an actual threat to everyone who walked through that door. Both most likely. That was the crux of working with highly capable, but very dangerous people. They made for valuable allies, but you could never get too comfortable. 

“Kakashi-kun, what a surprise. I almost thought you’d left us for greener pastures.” 

Wonderful. Kakashi kept his expression blank as he shook the cold, clammy hand that Orochimaru proffered. “I have no intention of leaving, only in opening up a few doors.”

“Hmm, yes, I have some interest in that myself.” The snake sidled up next to Kakashi. “I could help you.”

That sounded … inconvenient. “Oh?” he asked, disinterestedly. 

Orochimaru laughed, though his gaze remained fixed, reptilian. “You don’t need to sound so guarded, dear Kakashi-kun. I could be very helpful to you.” 

“I’ve got all the help I need, thanks.” He walked away, nodding shortly to the four unsmiling men posted in the lobby as they bowed and parted to let him through. They’d upped security in the last weeks now that their plans were culminating. Everything was coming to a head. It would be soon. He reached the elevator doors and hit the button for the fifth floor. He didn’t need to look back to know Orochimaru’s beady eyes were still fixed on him, following his every movement.

His mood didn’t improve when the elevators doors opened to the small reception area outside his office and he found Tsunade passed out on the plush sofa with what looked like drool puddling beneath her head. 

“I take it Jiraiya was here?” he asked loudly as the doors slid closed behind him. She tended to sulk when her old friend stopped by.

“Ah?” She lifted her head, eyes blinking blearily, hair in complete disarray. “Kakashi? The hell are you doing here?”

“I work here, remember?” he returned drolly. Well, none of them really worked here. The offices were a cover for the businesses through which they laundered their money. He set his briefcase down and rolled up his sleeves picking up the empty bottles that littered the floor. “You two trying to drink yourselves into an early grave?”

Tsunade snorted and shook the bottle in her hand. “I’m gonna die anyway, might as well enjoy the ride down.” That’s what he liked about Tsunade. She didn’t bother with comforting lies. “Speaking of walking cadavers, I thought you’d still be too busy with Mioji’s mildewed cock down your throat to come in.”

Then again, there was something to be said for comforting lies, Kakashi thought wryly. He forced himself not to react to the verbal jab and grinned, loosening his tie instead. “You must be thinking of Katou and Orochimaru,” he returned lightly. He watched her carefully, but she betrayed no emotion beyond distaste. As long as he’d known her, Katou Dan seemed to be her only pressure point. Not that he was stupid enough to try applying pressure to her. He liked his body parts just as they were.

The Senjuu heir sat up and tipped the last dregs of the bottle into her mouth, swallowing noisily. “Bring me more, brat.”

“I’m not your lackey, Tsunade.”

She snorted. “Then quit acting like you are. I’m getting sick of pretending to be the only boss around here.”

“Yes, I can see how difficult it is for you,” he said, purposefully glancing around at the mess. He could make out Jiraiya’s patented, bulky jacket shoved underneath the divan and what looked like a discarded condom lying just underneath it. He did not look any closer. First thing tomorrow he was calling the contractor and getting the damn flooring ripped out and replacing all the furniture. 

Tsunade yawned and tossed the now-empty bottle at him, glaring when he caught it easily. “How’s our little operation going?”

“It’s going.”

“Really?” She stretched and pulled at the loose yukata she wore, making it clear she was wearing nothing underneath. “I heard there was a hiccup. An unwanted meddler. Who is he?”

He was aware she was having him followed. No surprise there, and he’d given Shizune the slip before heading to Iruka’s apartment. But how much to reveal? Tsunade hadn’t gotten as far as she had simply because of her name. It was fatal to underestimate her. He didn’t forget it. “Umino Iruka. A nobody in over his head.”

“You don’t say.” There was no surprise. She’d known and was testing him. How much did she know? Nakajima hadn’t yet discovered Iruka was an undercover, likely because the young man was too far beneath his notice, but Tsunade wasn’t one for such careless oversights. The blonde yawned and stood, stretching. One side of her yukata fell open but she didn’t bother righting it. No shrinking maiden there. “He could become a complication.”

Yes, Kakashi had thought much the same thing when he’d realized exactly what Iruka was. He stared at the alcohol stains from Tsunade’s little rendezvous on the otherwise immaculate white carpet. The white carpeting made a starkly beautiful contrast to the black leather office furniture but it was a pain in the ass to maintain. He tossed the empty bottles aside with controlled force. He didn’t give a fuck about the carpet. He looked at Tsunade, keeping his expression blank, and stuffed his hands in his pockets nonchalantly. “You don’t need to concern yourself. He’s a complication for which I’ve calculated.”

She stood, nearly stumbling as she grabbed for more liquor. There were still a few unopened cans, surprisingly enough. “He’s a wildcard, Kakashi,” she grumbled as if he needed reminding. “We don’t need a wildcard upsetting our plans.” She grabbed an Asahi and a Sapporo - not one of refined taste that Tsunade - and turned back to him, raising a challenging brow. 

“Like I said, don’t worry. I have plans for him.”

“And if I want him dead?”

Another test. Kakashi didn’t let his irritation show. “I’d be surprised,” he said evenly. “Umino will make a good fall guy.”

“We don’t need a fall guy, Kakashi. With Nakajima dead, there won’t be anyone left for us to worry about.” Her head cocked in mock confusion. “Are you forgetting the whole reason you chose to work your way into his organization was so you could kill him?”

“Safe to say I haven’t forgotten, Tsunade. It was my idea.”

“Right.” She yawned. “You’ve been playing hard to get with Nakajima for a while, kid. Why not just bend over for him? It’ll get you near the throne faster.”

Kakashi grimaced in disgust and crossed his arms over his chest. “Hate to break that sadistic, non-existent heart of yours, Tsunade, but Nakajima doesn’t fuck me.”

She snorted and lifted a bottle, staring into its empty depths. The mess of her hair and her ring-shot eyes did not hide her beauty. Nor the gun she kept at hand. “He might leave your ass alone, but he sure does like to fuck your head, doesn’t he?”

Kakashi picked up his briefcase, feeling the handle threaten to crack under the force of his grip. “Umino is not a threat to my plan,” he said, definite, steering them back on topic. “I’ll keep him distracted.”

“Don’t bother,” she called as he turned to go. “I’ll have Orochimaru take care of it.”

Kakashi kept his mouth shut. There were things he would go toe-to-toe with Tsunade about, but this wasn’t worth it. Iruka was not worth it. Even as he thought that, his lips parted. “You’re forgetting yourself,” he said coldly. “Umino is my problem.”

The smirk she gave him made him grit his teeth. She’d been looking for his own pressure point for years. And she thought she’d just found it. Letting Orochimaru kill Umino was now the only way to convince her he didn’t care. _Well, why not?_ he asked himself ruthlessly. He didn’t care. And he didn’t need Umino. The boy took up more of his time than he’d been anticipating and keeping up the friendly act with him was … muddying things. His death would be a welcome release. 

He sighed as though exasperated. “Fine. If some clueless busboy threatens you that much, by all means, have Orochimaru deal with him.” Tsunade watched him closely and he stared back, expression bored. “Anything else?”

“You really don’t care?”

“Are you telling me you really do? You’re getting riled too easily in your old age.”

That made her eyes narrow, but she only shrugged. “I pay attention to detail, that’s all.”

Kakashi snorted and walked to his office, hearing her picking up the phone in the background. “Hey. There’s someone I need taken care of. No, no need for torture, I only want him eliminated. Make it clean and fast.”

He didn’t pause and continued into the cool room that served as an office, carelessly tossing his suitcase onto the wingback chair and letting the door swing shut. His jaw clenched, pulse erratic with something he couldn’t name. Orochimaru. Iruka didn’t stand a chance. He rounded his desk and flicked on the computer screen, unlocking it and flipping through a few feeds until he found him. On the screen, Iruka was stepping out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. The image was clear, sharp. The cameras he’d planted in the man’s apartment were state of the art. He watched the young man dress and dry his hair with absent-minded movements, his mind clearly occupied by something else. Orochimaru was sadistic. He liked to take his time with his victims, he’d want to kill Iruka in the apartment. Give himself a chance to play. To experiment.

Kakashi’s finger hovered over the shutdown button. Iruka’s fate was sealed. There was nothing for him to do. He watched the young man in the feed drag a comb through his hair for a minute, watched him go through the motions of living in that rat-infested dive for the sake of others, for the sake of saving others. He was a fool. Fools did not live long in their city. It was unfortunate, Kakashi thought, maybe under different circumstances …

He stared for a moment longer before hitting the button powering the laptop down. Indecisiveness meant death. He made his choice.

 

The ringing stopped abruptly, white noise indicating the line had been picked up. There was the sound of a short scuffle. Iruka shaded his eyes from the noon sun as he waited.

“Light of my life. How are you?”

He pulled the phone away from his ear, honestly perplexed for a second before he sighed sharply and glared at the thing.

“Iruka? Hot stuff? Don’t leave me hanging.”

He opted to forego the urge to chuck the thing into the sea, and answered. “Two things. First off: I need you to acquire Nakajima’s phone number. His personal cell phone number, not the business one, as soon as possible.”

“Done.”

“I don’t think you realize that it won’t be that simple--” he began, 

“Sweetheart,” Kakashi interrupted, amused. “I already have Nakajima’s personal cell phone number.”

Iruka blinked. “Oh.” He eyed a couple getting closer on the walkway, and stood, meandering further up the way to stand in the shade of a building awning. “I was under the impression Nakajima’s paranoia makes obtaining his cell phone number difficult.”

“You are under the correct impression. He’s a very paranoid man. But as you so charmingly pointed out, he does have an … affinity for me.”

Iruka paused in the act of running a hand over his head, a sick feeling churning in his guts. Did he need to warn Kakashi about Nakajima? Doubtful, Kakashi must know how dangerous the man was. Had to know who he was getting into bed with. Umm… figuratively speaking. At least, Iruka hoped it was figurative. “Hatake …”

There was a huff over the receiver. “Is that concern in your voice, sweetheart? There’s that bleeding heart again. I’ve warned you about that,” the other man said almost kindly and Iruka swallowed hard. 

“Hatake--” There were too many things he wanted to say. Even more he wanted to ask. But it wasn’t the time. Maybe it never would be. 

“You said two things. What’s the other?” Kakashi interrupted. 

“Oh.” Iruka had to take a second to gather his thoughts. The days had been unusually chilly despite the glare of the sun. “Right.” His eyes narrowed, thinking about what to say. “Don’t show up at my apartment anymore.” Kakashi hummed in question and Iruka listened closely as he said, “I think I was followed on the train. Better to be careful so that no one spots you.”

“Followed from the club?”

“Yes.”

Kakashi was quiet for several beats. “All right. I’ll keep my distance.” He sighed regretfully. “It’s going to be a lot more difficult to seduce you from afar, you know. My charm is considerably more effective in person.”

Even knowing the asshole could have bugged his apartment, Iruka gave a reluctant huff of amusement. “That’s because you have no charm, you rely entirely on your looks.”

“I knew it. You think I’m hot. Tell me, how often do you masturbate to the thought of me pushing you down onto your hands and knees and fucking you hard from behind? Because I do. A lot.” 

Jesus. Iruka gripped the phone tighter. What the hell was wrong Kakashi? What the hell was wrong with Iruka that the thought of it made him lightheaded, mouth gone inexplicably dry? But that was chemistry for you. Irrational, inconsiderate and, above all, idiotic. What was it about Kakashi that made him not only drop but set his good judgment on fire? He opened his mouth, but could get no words out.

“I have that number for you when you’re ready.” He could hear the aggravating smugness radiating from the other man’s tone. “Let me know when you’re done playing with yourself.”

“Go. To. Hell,” he managed, strangled, and Kakashi laughed.

 

It took Iruka an hour by train, a fifteen-minute bus ride and an additional forty-five walk to reach the isolated building. The converted office space they’d secured looked nothing like the last time Iruka had seen it. It was covered now in dark blue tarps top to bottom and cluttered with desks whose surfaces were in turn strewn with all kinds of electronics. How anyone could make sense of anything in that room was beyond him. 

He wandered for a bit, letting the young man typing away at the laptop at the center desk continue to work undisturbed. A tiny blue light was blinking on a black one-hundred yen sized circuit-looking thing. He poked at it and suddenly heard two voices arguing over lunch preferences. 

“Jesus,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice down. Who had the kid managed to bug this time? They’d been trying to get a listening device into the district captain’s office with no success so far. He hit the button a second time and the voices shut off immediately plunging the room into silence once again, broken only by the steady clack of computer keys. 

Ten minutes later Shikamaru stopped abruptly and turned to him, shoving the computer to one side for him to see. “I have something for you. Look at this.”

Iruka straightened and approached the long L-shaped desk. There were two dots blinking in the same spot with a set of coordinates overlaid on a map of the country. “Why are those two blinking dots over the Pacific?”

Shikamaru turned the laptop back to himself and frowned. “Because that is where the phones of the Chief of Police and Deputy Commission General are located.”

Iruka turned to stare in disbelief at Shikamaru who grinned unrepentantly. “How were you able to get their location from their phones? Did you bug them?” 

Shikamaru snorted. “They’re much too cautious for that. And if it were that easy you wouldn’t need me.” He tapped his fingers on his cell phone. “I pinged their cell phones, though given their distance from any cell phone towers the location is an estimation from within a ten to fifteen-mile parameter at best.”

“Pinged?” Iruka leaned closer, heart jackrabbiting. “How were you able to get a ping authorized on such prominent LEOs?”

“Authorized is such a strong word.” 

Iruka groaned and looked heavenward, making Shikamaru laugh. 

“I hijacked their phone service providers by sending an email to a company employee suggesting that he had viewed naughty web pages that had infected his computer with a virus. I advised that he needed to reset all his passwords using my link. Made it very official-looking. I got access to everything I needed the moment he complied.” He sighed in disappointment. “I despair of our digital security.” 

Iruka rubbed at the bridge of his nose feeling the pressure of a headache building to a sharp pain. “Can the hack be traced back to you?” Because then they’d have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. Like why an academy rookie was getting involved in an unsanctioned undercover op by illegally hacking private businesses.

“Not unless they’re better than me.” Shikamaru smirked at Iruka’s worried look. “They’re not better than me.”

Iruka hoped that was true. “This isn’t enough,” he murmured, turning back to the screen. “A fifteen-mile radius? That doesn’t even begin to place them in the same location. We can’t know for sure they’re even involved.”

“No,” Shikamaru agreed, shrugging. “But it’s a start. At least we’ll know their relative positions. And we’ll know when they’re with Nakajima as soon as your contact comes through with a cell phone number for the man.”

“That’s actually why I’m here,” Iruka revealed and pulled out the sticky note. “He came through.”

Shikamaru immediately straightened and snatched the paper from him. “Damn, dude works fast. Who’d he have to blow to get this?”

God, Iruka wished the kid hadn’t said that. He’d been trying very hard not to wonder why exactly Kakashi was so leery of Nakajima. 

The tech genius pulled his laptop close again and began typing. “I’ll need to find out who his service carrier is first. That won’t be difficult,” he boasted, typing in usernames and passwords faster than Iruka could follow. “Nifty little detail, when you have access to a cell phone service provider’s database you can find out the carrier for any number.”

“Very nifty,” Iruka agreed a little wryly. 

“Still, I’ll need confirmation that the pings are working properly and that Nakajima keeps his phone on him at all times. Shouldn’t be too hard,” the genius murmured, mostly to himself. “We’ll do a few when you can confirm he’s at the club and we can confirm other locations with your snitch. He’ll need to stay close to Nakajima, naturally.”

“Naturally. You know, this doesn’t feel like your first time breaking the law,” Iruka couldn’t help pointing out, despite not being in a position to object. 

Shikamaru snorted. “Not even a little bit, but don’t worry. I don’t get caught.”

Right, because that was the issue. Shikamaru was a little too nonchalant about having violated not only national law but also civil liberties. “How is it that you didn’t end up a criminal?” he asked in wonderment.

He could hear the grin in Shikamaru’s reply as he flicked between screens, focused on his task. “No challenge. Criminals work with no confines at all, whereas on the job I am continually forced to find ways to bend laws to my will without breaking them entirely. Keeps things interesting.”

“I am terrified of you, Shikamaru-kun, just so you know.”

“Most people are, Umino-san. It’s a healthy instinct.” Shikamaru stretched lazily and threw an empty energy drink can across the room making a perfect shot into the trash can. He whooped and raised one arm in victory, looking just like the kid he’d once been. Still was in a lot of ways, but he was older now. Old enough to hack into his sensei’s files and discover what he and Iruka were up to and all but blackmailing them into letting him help. Gai had been livid but also, Iruka knew, strangely proud of the young genius who until then hadn’t shown any incentive. 

“How’s the academy coming along?” Iruka asked, curious. It must be an entirely different experience for a young man going out into the world alone for the first time as opposed to Iruka’s whose decision had been a late change of career.

“Easy peasy,” he responded idly, grinning slyly. “Good thing I have this side gig or I’d be bored out of my mind and doing all sorts of objectionable things.”

“Good thing,” Iruka agreed, not unironically.

 

 

Kakashi swore savagely, internally as he was greeted by the sight of Orochimaru reclining lazily on his desk in his office. He generally went out of his way to avoid the man, but here he was running into him twice in as many weeks. 

“I hear I’m offing your lover, Kakashi-kun. I hope there won’t be any hard feelings.”

He watched Orochimaru rise, carelessly tossing a newspaper aside, and stand to intercept Kakashi. It was impressive, really, that Orochimaru could sound as slimy and slippery as he was. And looked. Everything about the man screamed conscienceless, murderous vermin. Unfortunately, he was as hard to kill as vermin too. “Sadly, not a lover,” he replied easily as the man placed a too-familiar hand on his shoulder in an apparent effort to console. “We didn’t get that far.”

“Is that so?” Orochimaru licked lips rouged in black. Like he wasn’t creepy enough? “Well, if you want to join me, I’d let you have a go before killing him.”

Kakashi kept the violent need to lash out firmly under control. “Rape isn’t my kink.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and Orochimaru leaned closer, close enough that Kakashi could smell the blood on his breath. He was dying. But not fast enough. “I understand. But you won’t mind if I play. Right?”

“Knock yourself out,” he said carelessly, shrugging off the other man’s hand when his phone rang. He pulled out the cell and stared at Orochimaru until the man chuckled and left, closing the door behind himself. “Hatake,” he answered briskly. 

The laugh on the other end had his gut clenching. “So formal. I thought we were past that, Kakashi-kun.”

“Nakajima-sa--”

“Ah, ah.”

He gritted his teeth. “Mioji-san.”

“Better.” He could hear the self-satisfaction in that cold tone. “I’m having a small get-together next week. You will be at the dock at eight p.m. on Thursday.”

Kakashi’s hand tightened on the phone and he didn’t respond. No. Not a good time. The worst time, in fact. He needed to-

“That is,” Nakajima continued, tone dropping dangerously, “unless you have more important business to attend?”

“Not at all,” he said quickly, smoothly, reworking mental calculations. He wouldn’t be able to pull this off on his own, not with the new timeline. He would need help. But whose? Who would be safe?

There was a sound of amusement on the other end. “Good. You learned from your friends’ mistakes. Such a shame to die so young.”

His thoughts ground to a halt.

“You did the right thing,” Nakajima continued silkily. “They would have dragged you down. Sacrificing them was the best move for your career. That’s why I hold you in such high esteem, you know. Not everyone would kill their best friend and childhood sweetheart to get ahead. You and I are two of a kind.”

Kakashi’s brain was stalled, unable to compute a single thought, focused on not seeing the faces of Tobi and Rin. 

“I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Yes,” he agreed automatically, and set the phone down very quietly after Nakajima disconnected.

 

“I don’t trust you.”

“You don’t need to, but if you refuse he’s as good as dead. I have a date and time now, next time I may not.”

The was a long, torn, frustrated pause. But of course, he would come. “Yes,” he bit out finally.

 

The trap was laid. Gloved fingers caressed over the hidden laptop as he watched the lock of the front door picked carefully from the exterior. The young man they’d gotten to play the role had walked into the apartment an hour ago and was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of tea, the lights off in the twinkling twilight. 

The man sitting at the laptop pulled the white wooden mask down over his face. It wouldn’t do to be recognized if his prey got away. Though he had no intention of letting that happen. He was sitting in the darker interior of the bedroom. Waiting.

It was time. 

No guns for this one. There was too much possibility of Tsunade linking it to him. She would suspect anyway, but she’d have no proof. No certainty.

Kakashi picked up the long hunting knife, its wicked, curved blade glinting in the half-light, and secured it in the sheath at his hip. Orochimaru would die tonight. He glanced back at the screen, preparing, and went to stand by the bedroom door as the man outside continued bent to his task, long, dark hair obscuring the pale face. It took no time at all and the door was swinging open with a jarring screech. The young man at the table gasped in believable shock and jumped back, the chair swinging around to crash onto the floorboards as that pale, long-haired, deadly figure leaped forward with an arm outstretched, extended syringe in hand.

Too late.

Kakashi moved swiftly, caught the arm, deftly snapped the wrist and drove his blade home, straight through the left breast. He’d meant to cleave the heart, to stop that sickened beating once and for all, but Orochimaru managed to dodge just enough that Kakashi missed and only grazed his chest, blood gushing forth. The snake released the syringe and whipped out a knife. He dropped low and swiped with it, despite the broken wrist, at Kakashi’s shins, making the silver-haired man leap back. Damn. The young man at the table closed in, circling Orochimaru, gun held at the ready, but Kakashi waved him back sharply, not saying a word. He signaled and Maito stepped out of the shadows and slammed into Orochimaru too fast for Kakashi to follow in the fallen darkness and grabbed him, dropping with him into a guillotine submission hold. Maito meant to subdue him. Meant to arrest and question him. That wouldn’t do.

Kakashi moved. Too quickly for Gai to react, he drove his blade home, smoothly, easily, like sliding into butter, slipping the sharpened steel between ribs to lodge into the heart and twisted, breaking ribs. Orochimaru gasped, whimpered and jerked convulsively in Gai’s arms before finally going still. 

“Wow,” the young man said from behind him, sounding entirely too unafraid. “You didn’t hesitate at all.”

Gai roared and leaped to his feet, shoving the body off him. “What the hell were you thinking!? I needed him alive!”

“I didn’t,” he responded easily, leaning down to rip the blade out of Orochimaru’s chest. He held it tightly. He didn’t want to kill Maito, but he would if necessary. He saw Gai register that. Saw his eyes narrow and felt the young man circle him, move to his back. He tensed. Two against one. Not his best odds. Especially when he could tell they were both very skilled.

But Gai jerked his head sharply, motioning the young man back. “This was not the deal,” Gai said tightly, angrily. But not surprised.

Cold black eyes stared past the Green Beast. “Leaving him alive would not only expose me, but it would also continue to endanger Iruka.” Even explaining that much was an irritation.

“And you care so very much about Iruka, do you?” Gai asked softly. There was something low and deadly in his tone.

“I’m sure you’ll believe that I care about my own skin. Help me lift him,” he dictated impatiently, raising his mask to set it to one side of his face. “We can’t leave any trace of him. Get the lights,” he ordered the young man.

The kid didn’t move, only crossed his arms.

Kakashi sighed. It had been surprisingly easy to convince Maito to keep Iruka in the dark - for once the man’s overprotectiveness had worked in his favor - but it seemed that was as far as they could agree.

“Do it,” Gai said finally, tiredly, addressing the young man.

The sun had dropped low enough that the room was nearly fully dark. He blinked as the bulb overhead illuminated the room and he saw that the young man was wearing his own mask. “What, you don’t trust me? After everything we’ve been through together? Lying, breaking and entering, murder?” He shook his head sadly and the young man huffed a laugh. The kid did look a bit like Iruka with the mask on and his hair in a ponytail. Their builds were similar. Might even fool him from a distance. He froze at that thought and turned to the body, kneeling quickly and shoving it onto its back.

“Goddammit,” he swore softly, feelingly. 

“What?” Gai quickly leaned over him, scanning the body. “What’s wrong?”

The kid walked closer as well and nudged at the hand with his foot. “It’s not him,” he realized. “Fuck. We got the wrong guy?”

Kakashi sat back, grim. “This isn’t Orochimaru.”

“What are you talking about? It’s him.”

The kid was already shaking his head. He pushed the head to one side and pointed out minute scars behind the ears that ran down to the back of the neck. “Surgery. He has the same build and hair as Orochimaru and he cut his face to look even more like him.” He huffed in disgust. “Good enough to fool us. I don’t like being made to look like a fool.”

No. Nor did Kakashi. Plastic surgery. So this was what Orochimaru had been up to. Creating doubles of himself. 

“We killed an innocent man?” Gai asked, harrowed. 

“Hardly innocent. Your conscience can rest easy.”

“Yes, because it’s so simple for you not having one,” the man retorted bitingly.

“This is Yakushi Kabuto,” Kakashi said impatiently, pointing at the birthmark on the inner elbow. “He killed three children aged twelve to sixteen in search of a cure for Orochimaru’s illness. He experimented on them until they died,” he said coldly and stood as Gai gaped at him. “You know him as The Butcher. Now, are you done crying over him? When is Iruka due back?” he asked harshly. There was no time to dwell on the failure. They needed to clean this up. Iruka could not know. On that score, at least, they all agreed.

Gai rubbed at his eyes, then checked his watch. “We have two hours. Three if we’re lucky.” He glanced back down at the body. “We haven’t been lucky.”

They didn’t talk. They worked silently and swiftly. The kid retrieved the packaged carpet from his car and they rolled the body into it after wiping up every trace of blood. There was a near disaster when Iruka’s neighbor stepped outside just as they were lugging the rug out the door. 

The fat kid with the round, friendly face glanced their way and grinned. “Man, you’re doing it right. I wish I’d known that the dumpster on Spring Street gets picked up early Thursday morning. Would have made it easier when I was getting rid of my stuff. Have a good night!” he called cheerfully to the three men.

Kakashi’s eyes narrowed as he stared after that deceptively round body. That was nearly pure muscle on the boy unless he was mistaken. And, present body excluded, he rarely made mistakes. “Do you know him?” he asked suspiciously, glancing to his right where Gai’s boy had been busy locking the door behind himself.

The kid’s eyes widened innocently behind the mask. “Why, no. Whatever do you mean?”

Right. So, the kid had someone watching out for Iruka. Not a bad idea. Though rolly-polly there wouldn’t have been Kakashi’s first pick. He glanced at Gai but there was no recognition in the man’s eyes. Which didn’t mean much, but he got the feeling this was one secret the kid was keeping to himself. He could feel those dark eyes boring into him.

“By the way, Gai-san,” the kid said suddenly, still staring at Kakashi. “I ran the check for bugs and cameras in Iruka’s apartment before our op, as you asked.”

Kakashi kept a neutral expression, swearing internally as the kid held his gaze for a small eternity. 

“Naturally, I would have said something earlier if it wasn’t the case, but I want to make sure you know that his apartment is clear.”

The silver-haired man didn’t betray his relief. 

The Green Beast nodded. “Thank you. I wanted to make sure there weren’t unfriendly eyes watching him. Or us.”

“There aren’t,” Shikamaru assured brightly. “And if someone were to, say, … install cameras, I would be able to track where the feed was going and figure out exactly who had installed them.”

A warning. Kakashi nearly grinned. A secret for a secret. He could do that. “Let’s get this over with.”

They made their way to the nondescript car outside the building incident-free and tossed the rug into the trunk.

“It won’t take Orochimaru long to figure out his man’s dead and Iruka is very much alive,” Kakashi warned. “I can’t be here next week. You’ll need to keep an eye on him.”

“Going on vacation?” the kid asked drolly. “Taking a yacht out to the Pacific maybe?”

Kakashi grinned. He really was starting to like the brat. “What can I say? Blue skies, blue seas, might even hit up a nude beach.”

“That seems right up your alley,” Gai bit sharply. “Iruka’s life continues to be in danger and you’re gallivanting off for a week of fun. You don’t give a damn about him, and he--,” the man bit his tongue.

“Gai-san,” the kid said softly.

“Oh, but I’m leaving him in the best care,” Kakashi replied scornfully. “Aren’t you his knight in shining armor? I’m sure nothing will get past you.” He turned to the kid. “You have access?”

The kid nodded immediately. 

Kakashi liked that he didn’t have to spell things out for the brat. “Good. Orochimaru won’t try again immediately. He’ll take a step back and reevaluate, recalculate. He’s not stupid and he’s not one to act out of emotion, but it’s better to be cautious. Iruka should be fine until I get back, but make damn sure you’re monitoring him.”

Gai frowned. “Careful, murderer, you almost sound concerned.”

He ignored that and reluctantly handed the kid a burner phone. “I will be out of contact.” He gripped the kid’s hand tightly where he’d placed the phone, making sure to meet those dark eyes. “You will use this only if you have no other choice. And no one else gets access to this. No one.”

The kid stared and finally nodded slowly, despite Gai’s strenuous objections. “You have my word.”

Not good enough. Not by a long shot, but he had no other choice. Or rather, the only other choice would be to leave and hope that Gai, the kid and that child in the apartment complex were enough against Orochimaru. And they wouldn’t be. Not as long as Gai refused to immediately go for the kill. 

“Well,” he said blithely, reluctantly, and glanced at his watch, “I’ll leave the dumping to you. I have a boat to catch.”

 

There were two new cameras and two new guards stationed inside the main floor of _Etcetera_. Iruka walked past, not making eye contact, while swearing savagely internally. This was definitely something he hadn’t needed. Nakajima being gone generally meant there was considerably less security and more potential for snooping, but the security additions meant he’d be staying put like a good boy for the night. And the foreseeable nights.

He was on edge, uneasy.

The club manager ordered them to wipe down the club top to bottom given that there were no guests that night and he focused his impotent fury on scrubbing. There wasn’t much else for him to do with the extra sets of eyes. He quickly sprayed and wiped down the table counters making sure the marble surfaces gleamed. There were pieces of a broken mirror on the floor smudged with white powder and dotted with blood. There had been an older blond man, he remembered, who’d eagerly shared his cocaine with some of the girls. He picked up the jagged fragments and dumped them.

Iruka glanced up as the main door opened, but it was only Ayame heading to the employee area to collect her things. He’d been keeping an eye out for Kakashi for the past five nights but he hadn’t seen a single silver hair. And the man’s phone was going to voicemail every time he called which meant Shikamaru could not get a location. He scrubbed harder. 

He was still scrubbing at one of the low tables when Mei, the bartender, poked him on the shoulder, making him jump. “I think it’s clean enough,” she said laughingly. “Where’s your head? You’ve been out of it all night. Girl trouble?” she asked, fishing a little.

He shook his head.

“Guy trouble?”

“Stick to making your dry martinis,” he returned shortly, picking up the tray laden with dirty dishes and setting off for the kitchen.

“Definitely guy trouble,” he heard her mutter behind him.

Okay, so maybe he was a little worried about Kakashi. 

He set the tray down in the sink and began rinsing dishes for something to do. Neither Kakashi nor Nakajima had been to the club in several days. Definitely noteworthy given that Kakashi was becoming a fixture at the club lately. Iruka had been well aware that Nakajima was strangely fixated on the silver-haired man and he’d still asked Kakashi to essentially throw himself into Nakajima’s lap. 

The wine glass he was holding slipped out of his hand and smashed on the floor, making his heart thump. He took a steadying breath and squatted down to pick up the glass pieces.

Yes, he was worried. Despite thinking he was prepared to sacrifice the other man, he wasn’t inhuman. He didn’t want Kakashi to die if there was any other way. He shoved away the voice of cold logic that reasoned that Kakashi dying would be one less killer in the world. One less predator on the planet. 

The double doors swung open behind him interrupting his train of thought. 

“Umino-san.” Hinata-chan looked at the glass in his hands and immediately kneeled to help. “You shouldn’t be doing this. It’s not your job,” she murmured, carefully picking up pieces of sharp glass, her voice nearly inaudible.

He smiled at her. “It’s not your job either.”

“No,” she agreed quietly. “But it’s good to stay busy, right?” Her light, luminous gaze lifted, meeting his squarely. He hadn’t dared ask her if she recognized him. He’d grown out his close-cropped hair to shoulder length and gotten much more fit since the last time she’d seen him. A different lifetime ago.

“Yeah. It helps,” he said, hating the understanding look she shot him. She shouldn’t understand the things that gave him nightmares. Not her. Not any of them. He pushed away the image of a young boy, bruised and battered, pale face bathed in tears. No, he wouldn’t think about him.

She stood, tossing the glass in the trash and took the remnants he held in his hands, discarding those too. “Have a good night, Umino-san.” 

He nodded, throat too tight to respond, keeping his eyes downcast. He was aware that she shied away from all other men and wondered what he’d done to have been granted the privileged status of trustworthy. _Soon_ , he promised her silently. His hands clenched, uncaring of the tiny shards of glass that still clung to skin, pretending he didn’t see the bruises not-quite concealed by makeup as she turned away. 

He took a deep breath and turned back to the sink, quickly rinsing his hands and ripping off the apron. They were getting closer. Shikamaru believed he may have found electronic evidence in the form of email communication that implicated several high-ranking police officials, politicians, businessmen, and judges in extortion and racketeering. He’d be going after financial statements next to apply pressure to Nakajima’s associates. 

It was time to begin unsettling their comfortable lives.

 

Two days later Iruka’s phone vibrated at nine in the morning, just as he was stepping out of the shower.

 _Blue Blossom. Three_. That was the text he received from Kakashi after more than a week of no communication. 

Iruka stared at it a long time, something loosening inside him for reasons he didn’t want to analyze too closely. He pushed those tangled feelings aside and grabbed his thinning wallet. Damn. Good thing he had enough to cover the train fare. Commute time would be a bitch, but the distance was a necessity to make sure they weren’t spotted.

He arrived at the _Blue Blossom_ fifteen minutes early. The small brick building was a high-end cafe that was far enough out of the way that it was probably safe.

It was a rather lovely place with its hanging wisteria vines that created a charming, whimsical canopy overhead that shaded the main entrance. He walked inside and spotted Kakashi almost immediately in the nearly empty establishment. He was sitting at one of the candlelit window booths facing the exit. It wasn’t often he got to observe the other man without being watched in turn and he took the time to do so then. Kakashi was tapping his fingers on the tabletop, almost absently, restlessly and his body was tensed, wired. Iruka frowned. There was little in Kakashi’s body language that resembled his usual lax attitude and that could not bode well.

“See something you like?” was the other man’s sly greeting as he slipped into the seat across from him.

“What?” Iruka blinked. 

Kakashi nodded toward the door. “You were watching me.” He gave a wink but the action was simply a matter of habit, his teasing flirtatiousness dulled. 

Iruka frowned, wondering at the change. “Where have you been?” he demanded harshly instead, not liking the aborted movements Kakashi kept making. He wasn’t stupid, he’d seen enough of those at the club.

Kakashi’s gaze became wintry. “Working,” the other said finally, cold and biting. His hand reached up toward his face again, and again he checked it, fingers curling inward. He set his hand down slowly, very purposefully on the tabletop. “Working for you. Helping you, in case you forgot.”

Iruka flushed. “You’re working for yourself,” he responded quietly. “Don’t pretend you’re doing anything for my sake.”

“Mmm,” Kakashi mulled. He stared out the window, seeming to forget where he was for a moment before shaking his head as though clearing his thoughts and smiling at Iruka very deliberately. The smooth, charismatic club patron once again slotting into place. “Let’s not argue, sweetheart. I’m here with good news.”

Iruka sat back as the waitress approached and shook his head when she asked for his order, impatiently trying to wave her away.

“Forgive my friend,” Kakashi purred at the woman, “he’s under a lot of stress. Bring us both green tea, please.”

Iruka rolled his eyes as the woman flushed and stuttered agreement, Kakashi caressing the back of her hand with his index finger as she reached for the menus. “Must you?” he demanded grimly. “You’re drawing attention to yourself.”

“Have you see me?” Kakashi asked in mock offense. “It’s impossible not to draw attention to myself.”

“If you don’t have anything useful for me-”

He stopped at the hand that clamped down on his wrist when he stood.

“I’ve been on one of Nakaijma’s business boats for the past week. With Nakajima. And,” he added lowly so as not to be overheard, “a few of your bosses. Namely, Fujitora, Shiru and Bakato.”

Iruka’s breath lodged in his throat and he wasn’t able to keep his expression from giving away too much. “Bakato? You’re sure?”

“Moon-faced man with pubic hair for a mustache and a mole under his right eye?” Kakashi asked drolly. “Yes, I’m sure.”

Iruka nodded and took a breath. Good god. Bakato had not turned up in their intelligence. His involvement meant this went higher up the ladder. He had to let Shikamaru know, they needed to find a way to bug those offices. Gai had already managed to bug Shiru’s home, but so far that had been unproductive. The man was very careful not to conduct his business there. 

“Is that your happy face?” Kakashi asked with a smirk. “You look like you’re about to orgasm. This wasn’t the setting I was hoping I’d see that expression, but I’ll work with it.”

“Nakajima took you on that trip to meet with the Chief of Police, Deputy Commission General, and the District Captain?” he demanded, still in disbelief, ignoring Kakashi’s comments. He sank back down onto the seat because his legs were about to give out from under him. Good god, if Kakashi had that level of access …

But the man was shaking his head. “He didn’t take me to meet anyone. He hosted a dinner with several of his black market contacts out on a boat on the Pacific on one of the nights I was there. Those men were guests, but it was a no-business-dinner.” He tapped his fingers. “I did some light prying, but Nakajima,” he said blank-faced, “was insistent on taking up my time.” 

Iruka dropped his gaze and after a moment rubbed at his eyes. “Shikamaru pinged Nakajima’s phone every day you were gone, but only two pings were successful. Do you know where you were? Coordinates?”

Kakashi drummed his fingers on the table again, looking around the small space of the cafe. “No.” He didn’t elaborate. “Knowing when your bosses meet with Nakajima won’t be enough to shut them down,” he added, changing the subject. He was quiet as the waitress returned and set down their teas smiling at the silver-haired man and taking the time to pour for him slowly, hands lingering.

Iruka cleared his throat loudly and she jumped. 

Kakashi’s gaze was far away again, unfocused. He didn’t look at the woman as she departed reluctantly. “You said your tech guy is working on a listening device? Something that electronic readers won’t pick up and more advanced than a wire?”

“Significantly more. He knows that Nakajima does regular sweeps of his office, so bugging it would be a problem, but maybe …”

Kakashi nodded absently. “I’d definitely like to get my hands on something like that if he can make it.”

“For the Nakajima job, I’m sure,” Iruka said drolly.

“Of course,” Kakashi agreed with an artless grin. 

Iruka picked up his tea, taking a slow sip and sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time in over a week, muscles loosening. He didn’t pull away from the hand Kakashi placed over his. 

“Did you worry about me, Iruka?”

“I could hardly concentrate,” he said dryly, sarcastically, after long minutes in which his chest compressed tightly. He pulled his hand away. It was his turn to stare out the window at the overcast sky and the copse of trees standing sentry near the walkway outside. He raised his cup again wishing it was alcohol. 

“Iruka.”

He didn’t turn his head, didn’t acknowledge the other man and could find no reason for the sudden, rapid pounding of his pulse. 

“Well,” he said after a short silence in which he did not watch Kakashi rub at his nose yet again. “If there’s nothing else--” Iruka stopped talking, surprised when a waiter appeared and set down several plates on the table, bowing quickly and retreating. “What’s this? When did you--” Iruka eyed the lovely, artful array, licking his lips. “Namagashi,” he breathed. It had been far too long since he’d had the pleasure. 

“Knew you’d have a sweet tooth.” Kakashi sounded entirely too pleased with himself. “Dig in.”

“Hatake--”

“Come on, Officer. You want to indulge, don’t you?” That dark, alluring gaze pierced him, reaching into depths of himself that Iruka did not want to look into. Had never been comfortable looking into. 

So he looked away instead and picked the chopsticks, pretending to admire the lovely treats to keep from meeting Kakashi’s gaze and indulging in something else entirely. After several minutes he popped the last bit of higashi into his mouth with a satisfied, if regretful sigh. He glanced up as Kakashi pushed his own plate towards him. “Uh,” he toned, feeling strange. 

“Go ahead,” Kakashi insisted easily, gaze predatory. “I like watching you eat.”

 _Ri~ght._ Iruka ducked his head under the pretext of taking a sip of tea to avoid the other man’s eyes. “Actually, I should be getting back to my apartment. I’m heading into the club in a few hours.”

“I’ll drive you,” he offered, running a hand through his ridiculous silver hair, mussing it and making it look utterly touchable. “It’s on my way.”

No, it wasn’t. His eyes narrowed. First Gai, now Kakashi. Something was going on. Gai had been insistent on driving him everywhere and staying the night at his apartment despite the lack of room and the threat of digital eyes watching. Iruka had finally snapped at him and thrown him out. 

He tensed when Kakashi leaned forward, their knees brushing under the seat. He shook his head sharply, ignoring the skipped beat of his heart. “No, thank you. The less we’re together, the better.”

“Better for whom?” Kakashi asked, sardonic. “You? The boyfriend?”

Iruka sighed gustily. “Why are you so hung on up on that? I told you, Gai is not my boyfriend.”

Kakashi raised his eyebrows in frank disbelief. “Have you told him that? Because green is not that man’s color, and I’m not talking about that ghastly suit that he wears.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Iruka repeated, calmly. “He’s my ex-husband.” He actually had to hold back a laugh at the dumbfounded expression on Kakashi’s face. He got the feeling not too many people got to see it.

“Come again?”

“People get married, Hatake. They get divorced too.”

“I know that, it’s just …” he thought for a moment, staring at Iruka, lips pursed. “Wow,” he said finally, thoughtfully, “I’ve never fucked a divorced man before.”

Iruka stiffened. “Don’t worry,” he returned acerbically, standing, “that’s not about to change.” He threw a few bills on the table, ignoring Kakashi’s protests and walked away from that fake twilight of the interior into the bright sunlight outside. 

 

Neither his day nor his mood improved after arriving at the club.

Iruka bared his teeth in an attempt at a smile as he uselessly plucked the wet cloth over his crotch away from his body. Too little too late. The tea that the guest had ‘accidentally’ jostled onto his lap had already soaked through. Good thing it hadn’t been that hot, though he’d still had to bite his lip to keep from cursing as he did a ridiculous hop from one foot to the other trying to cool the stinging. 

“He~y.” The drugged, dazed gaze sharpened with lewd interest. “Hey, let me help you with your pants.”

Iruka nearly rolled his eyes. Yeah, like he didn’t get that once a month. “Please pardon me, sir. I need to get changed and bring you a fresh cup of tea.”

“You don’t have to.” The man leered repulsively and reached out to grope stupidly, pinching painfully at Iruka’s soft cock. He jerked back sharply, barely managing to keep from lashing out.

“Excuse me,” he said bowing to keep the rage from showing. He could not afford to draw attention to himself again. 

He made his way swiftly past the kitchen to the employee changing area, thanking all the little gods that it was empty. The tea had managed to splash onto his white dress shirt so he unbuttoned it, then quickly stripped out of his pants and opened his locker to reach for a clean-- 

The hand he’d extended into the locker froze. There, atop his spare uniform was a beautiful box with the logo for the _Blue Blossom_ with a folded note on top. He picked up the paper and twirled it between his fingers, considering. He couldn’t afford to ignore anything that came from Kakashi, he told himself. It could be related to his mission. 

There was no other reason. 

He opened the note, revealing the word _sorry_ written in red ink, and a badly drawn scarecrow with a sad face. Kakashi had snuck into the employee quarters. It was ludicrous. It was risky. Granted, the risk was minimal but it had still been a foolish thing to do. He sighed and stared at the sloppy characters on the white crinkled sheet, remembering Kakashi’s aborted hand movements, the pallor, the wire-tension.

And try as he might, he couldn’t convince himself to ignore what was happening with the other man any longer. He picked up his phone.

“Hey,” he murmured into the receiver, “I need you to locate someone for me.”

 

Seven ten. Iruka glanced up at the matching black numbers on the door and slipped the piece of paper into his pocket. This was it. He gave the door three firm taps and waited. And waited. And waited. It had taken Shikamaru forty-eight hours to find this place, mostly because he’d had to report back to the academy first.

He knocked again.

Then again.

“Hatake!” he hissed, putting his mouth near the doorjamb. “I know you’re in there! Your doorman said you were here.”

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed the number. It went to voicemail and he cursed, giving up politeness and pounding on the door. “Open up, damn you!” The man’s neighbors were probably debating calling the police. What a joke that would be.

Finally, he heard the lock slide free and the door cracked open.

“Umino.”

“Hatake--!” He swallowed the rest of what he’d been about to say, shocked into silence. “Kakashi?” he prodded, quietly. Dear god, Kakashi looked nothing like he had just a few days ago.

Even the man’s voice was a shade of its usual sensuous purr and Kakashi himself … even in the dim lighting of the apartment Kakashi looked deathly pale and wrung out. Strung out. He was sweating and shivering, eyes glazed. “What the hell did you take--?” he stopped. No. That didn’t quite jive with Kakashi. He liked being in control too much, was too paranoid to mess with strong drugs. Fuck. Oh, fuck. “What did he give you? What did he make you take?”

Kakashi looked away. “Now is not the best time, Umino,” he muttered, voice hoarse. 

Of course it wasn’t, he was coming down from whatever crap he’d taken during that trip. Iruka pushed at the door and was actually surprised when the other man fell back and let him in. “Okay,” he said with a grimace. “First thing first. You need to shower.”

“I’m not--”

“You are,” he growled. “Because I need you at one hundred percent. You’re useless to me in this condition.”

Anger sparked in Kakashi’s eyes though he only said mildly, “Wouldn’t want that.” 

The light that streamed in from the bright moon outside was almost too much. Iruka would have welcomed more darkness. 

Kakashi stood statue-still and stared at Iruka, his shirt damp and clinging to his body from sweat, hands shoved in his pockets to hide their trembling. “Are you here to save me, Iruka? You and your lost causes.” He sighed like Iruka was just too hopeless to deal with. The scar on his face stood out in stark relief. “You’re too late for that.”

Iruka turned and headed toward the kitchen, resolute. “I’m here to make sure my investment doesn’t depreciate, that’s all.”

There was a huff of unwilling amusement and Kakashi left, wandering back down the hallway to hopefully re-acquaint himself with his shower.

He breathed out in relief as soon as the man was gone and wandered around flicking on lights as his fingers stumbled on switches. The spacious apartment was much neater than he would have expected given Kakashi’s condition. The living quarters were lovely but cold. Not physically, though now that he thought about it the temperature was certainly set low. But no, it was cold in its perfect lack of personal touches or personality, the walls a hospital, austere white with sparse, drab gray furnishings.

It was so quiet that he heard the shower start in another section of the apartment. Kakashi would be fine. He’d get through this. Iruka would make sure of that because he needed the man for the mission. That was all, he told himself. The last thing he needed was another broken person to look after. Especially not when he was nearing the shattering point himself. He set about opening drawers in the kitchen until he found what he was looking for. The refrigerator was starting to look like something out of a horror movie so he bagged and tossed everything that could be labeled hazardous material. He had better luck with the freezer and threw some decent-looking fish to defrost in the microwave for expediency. No vegetables had survived, but he’d set some rice to cook. _Not bad_ , he thought as he chucked the fish into the hot pan. He wasn’t a great cook, but he could do the basics and he doubted Kakashi was of a mind to critique his culinary skills.

“How did you find me?”

Iruka jumped at the voice that came from directly behind him, not realizing until then that the water had shut off. God, the man could be dead quiet when he wanted to be. It probably came in handy, being a killer and all, he reminded himself harshly. He turned the heat off on the stove and set the fish aside to cool. “I’m not a doctor,” he said quietly, not turning. “I don’t know what you should be eating right now to help you recover, but you definitely need to eat. You’re putting your body through a lot of strain.”

Kakashi backed away and Iruka heard one of the stools scrape as he sat at the breakfast nook. “How did you find me?”

He sighed. “It wasn’t hard,” he answered finally. He opened cabinets until he found plates and served up the fish with rice. A simple meal without too much seasoning. The other man should be able to keep it down. He turned, unable to avoid looking at Kakashi any longer. And it became immediately obvious that he should not be there. 

Kakashi’s hair fell softly into his eyes, the scar giving him an air of vulnerability, and he was wearing a simple white tee that emphasized the slim, wiry strength of his body, and downy-looking grey sweatpants and the tableau was making his heart flutter in stupid ways. Iruka’s father had suffered from arrhythmia. Hopefully, the wild straining of his heart was just the late onset of a heart murmur.

Kakashi stared as Iruka set the plate down in front of him. 

“I have a friend who specializes in finding people and you didn’t exactly cover your tracks with this place. It wasn’t hard,” he repeated.

He handed over a pair of chopsticks and served up a cup of water, foregoing the sake. Definitely not the best time for it. 

After a long beat Kakashi picked up the chopsticks. “Thank you for the food,” he murmured, but there was nothing rote about the phrase, he was looking at Iruka, eyes conveying sincere gratitude and Iruka’s arrhythmia acted up again. 

He took the time to study Kakashi, noting that he looked better already. He smelled better anyway. Though he was still far too pale and a faint trembling still gripped his muscles.

All too soon he pushed the plate aside. 

Iruka bit his lip to keep from protesting. Kakashi was a grown man. He did not need looking after. And if he did, it was not Iruka’s job. Still, he didn’t like the sunken look to Kakashi’s cheeks.

“What did you take?” he asked softly.

Kakashi looked away. “I took what I had to,” he said finally, lightly. “Nakajima likes it when people are under his control,” he added more seriously. “So I gave him the illusion of it.”

Iruka swallowed, looking down at the uneaten food. 

“Hey,” Kakashi called softly. He stood and went around the island and put a finger under Iruka’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze. “We’re both willing to do things we don’t want to do, right? That’s what we agreed.”

“Why?”

Kakashi frowned, confused.

“Why are you willing to do things you don’t want to do?”

“Iruka--”

He shook his head sharply and backpedaled quickly. “Nevermind. I don’t want to know.”

There was a glimmer of a smile on Kakashi’s face as he cupped Iruka’s cheek. He should have pulled away or pushed the other man aside. He did neither. “Iruka.”

“I know!” he bit out harshly. “It’s my job to care about your motives. It’s my job to make sure you aren’t going to betray us. It’s my job to--”

“Stop.” Kakashi grasped his forearms. “It’s not your job tonight, okay? Tonight we can just be two friends spending time together.”

Iruka smiled thinly, crookedly. “Friends?” He shook his head at the idea. “Do you think that would have ever been likely if we’d met under different circumstances?”

“No,” Kakashi admitted, sliding his hands down Iruka’s arms until he could tangle their fingers together. “I don’t think I could ever be your friend, Iruka.”

Iruka frowned, hands tightening on Kakashi’s as the other man began to shake again. “Kakashi, what are you doing to yourself?”

The other man sighed and stepped back, breaking their hold. “It’s best to go cold turkey.”

And he knew that because he’d done this before, Iruka surmised. Locked himself away for days on end trying to sweat and shake and vomit the disease out. He’d done it before, so Iruka should leave him to it. 

Outside that door there were a wealth of responsibilities waiting to crush him. He didn’t need to add another. He should leave. 

He didn’t move.

Kakashi smiled faintly. “Will you stay?”

It took far longer than it should have for him to finally step back. “No.”

“Iruka--”

He bowed. “Please get better soon,” he said quickly, gruffly and walked away.

 

Kakashi shaved off two pounds of weight he couldn’t afford to lose trying to kick the fierce hunger. But sitting on the sidelines wasn’t an option. Orochimaru was still a threat. He didn’t ask himself why killing that man had now taken precedence over killing Nakajima.

 

Something was going on. Iruka stood at the sink, wiping down dishes for the fourth day in a row. Clientele attendance was down. Significantly. And the guards were restless, edgy. Gai was trying to shake up his contacts who dealt with the underground but so far no one wanted to talk except to say that it was something big. Deposition big. A whole new order big. And whatever it was, Iruka’s own bosses at headquarters were feeling it too. 

Iruka kept cleaning as the cook swore and wrestled with something in the walk-in freezer. It was sheer luck that he caught a glimpse of light pink hair through the bubble window on the kitchen double doors. Nothing necessarily strange about that. True, the working girls rarely wandered into the employee areas but that didn’t mean they couldn’t go there.

He dried his hands, telling himself he was being ridiculous, trying to calm the sudden pounding of his heart. He was imagining things. Still, he made his way quietly to the double doors and pushed past them, scanning for Sakura. Nothing. 

No. No. 

He quickly checked the rows of lockers knowing he wouldn’t find her, praying he would. He bolted past the last row--.

And felt his heart drop to somewhere around his ankles as saw Sakura disappear through the doors leading to the back staircase. At just the time when the change of the guard was happening and minutes before Nakajima was due at the club. It couldn’t be.

She wouldn’t.

Except that she would, he thought hopelessly, remembering the steely look she would get in her eyes at times. Not broken. Not by a long shot.

But she was going to get herself killed. And he couldn’t do anything to help her. He shouldn’t. He needed to turn away. Ignore it. One life did not take precedence over the possibility of saving countless others. But … it was Sakura-chan. 

He couldn’t do it. At a certain point standing by was no longer an option. He would cease to be human. 

Shit. What to do? Would his absence be noted? He turned as he heard the double doors behind him thrown open and Hinata rounded the corner quickly, walking into the staff area, desperately looking around. She jerked to a stop when she spotted him, hands wringing in her kimono. “Umino-san--”

He signaled sharply for her to be quiet. “I need to go upstairs,” he said in a near whisper, “to the extra storage for kitchen towels. Can you cover for me?”

She didn’t answer immediately, only stared, eyes vacant. Christ. Had those pieces of shit shot her up with something? They did sometimes to keep the girls docile.

Iruka felt a pang at her fate, but there was no time for that now. “Hinata-chan!” he snapped to get her attention. “Can you do it?”

“I can’t find Sakura-san,” she murmured, distressed.

 

Iruka swallowed and kept his voice even. “I’ll help you find her later, but for now I need you to cover for me. Okay?”

She focused her gaze and finally nodded. 

“Great.” He turned and ran, sprinting up the stairs taking them three at a time. Even so, he couldn’t see Sakura anywhere. But he knew where she would go for what she had in mind.

He continued onto the third floor and caught sight of the girl reaching for the fourth-floor door handle. Fuck. She wouldn’t know about the sensors. 

“Sakura-chan,” he hissed quietly, making sure he was out of range of the camera.

She jumped, hand pulling back quickly and turned around, glaring at him, a hatred unlike anything he’d ever seen glimmering in her eyes.

He didn’t have time to plan or argue. He ran up the remaining stairs to reach her, and just as he got to her, he heard voices on the other side of that door. Their gazes met, eyes wide. There was no time and nowhere to hide.

He dove for her without thinking, unable to jerk away in time as she startled and brought the dagger she’d hidden in her clothes up to swipe at his arm. The damn thing was sharp. It sliced through his vest and shirt, though he managed to twist enough that it didn’t hit skin or it would’ve opened up his arm like an overstuffed sausage.

They only had seconds. He lifted her in his arms and slapped a hand over her mouth then jumped to the third story landing, twisting his ankle as he bore down with too much weight and sending Sakura sprawling, but she didn’t so much as whimper. As quiet as he tried to be, they still slammed into the landing sending an echoing bang reverberating up the staircase. The fourth-floor door flew open. Shit. He couldn’t save them both. He grabbed her and shoved her over the railing, keeping hold of one hand so she could make the jump. “Go!” he mouthed, releasing her and she threw herself past the second story storage doors just as footsteps pounded down the staircase, the voices getting louder. He moved quietly, so quietly down the stairs, trying not to draw attention and almost made it all the way to the second-floor landing.

“Hey!”

He stopped, trying to quiet his panting. Running would only damn him. He turned an inquisitive gaze up to the two guards coming downstairs. Abare and Harunjito. “Yes, sir?” he asked, keeping the damage to his shirt turned away from the men.

“What the hell were you doing on the third floor?”

Iruka glanced in pseudo confusion at the door one step below that had the number two. “This is the second floor, Abare-san. I had to rush up here because there was an incident in the kitchen and we need extra towels.”

Those merciless, dark eyes narrowed. “Why were you scurrying around, Umino? We heard you.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” he said and it wasn’t all that difficult to inject fear into his voice. “I’ve never been to the extra storage room and I couldn’t remember where it was for a moment. I need to get going-”

“Come here.”

Iruka took a discreet breath and nodded docilely, slowly climbing the steps, biting his inner cheek every time he put weight on his twisted ankle. He made it to the third floor where the men had stopped and Abare reached over without warning and shoved the butt end of his high-powered rifle into Iruka’s gut, making him double over as his breath exited in a pained whoosh. He coughed and groaned, gripping his stomach and dropping to his knees. 

“I think you need a reminder of how dangerous curiosity can be around here, Umino,” Abare muttered sinisterly.

Iruka kept his head down. “Please. I was only looking for kitchen towels, sir.”

The second guard, Harunjito grabbed his ponytail and yanked his head back painfully. “That sounds like a lie. Doesn’t that sound like a lie, Abare?”

They laughed, but abruptly stopped as the first-floor door to the staircase slammed open and quick, light steps flitted up the stairs. “Umino-san!”

Iruka’s heart jerked in his chest. No. Not her too. He opened his mouth to warn her back but got punched in the face for his trouble.

“Umino-” Hinata ground to a halt as she caught sight of him on his knees before the other men. She stared at the tableau, utter terror in her eyes. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sirs,” she said shakily. “The cook sent me to look for Umino-san. He was supposed to have brought towels to help clean up.” She dropped to her knees, bowing so that her head touched the hands she extended on the floor. “I said I would come to look for him and bring him.”

Harunjito’s hand tightened in his hair, making Iruka wince, but he could see both men relax fractionally as someone else corroborated his story. Hinata-chan had likely just saved his life. Which by no means meant that he was in the clear.

“He’s busy with us now, whore. Go clean it up yourself.”

Hinata nodded and stood on shaky legs. She went into the extra storage room to keep up the farce. Where Sakura was hiding. Good, they’d be able to get out together. The men weren’t looking for anyone else.

Abare was staring after Hinata with narrowed eyes and he turned to Iruka after a moment. “Come on, Umino. Let’s go remind you to be more careful where you wander.”

They threw him down onto the thick carpeting of the fourth-floor security room. The men didn’t give him time to look around and they didn’t hold back. He’d counted five men, all armed, before the first boot caught his unprotected belly and he was forced to curl up into a ball and try to protect his head as best he was able as they kicked and stomped at him, mercilessly grinding the fingers of one hand under a heavy boot as he tried to drag himself away. There seemed to be no end to the blows. His chest was on fire and there was a ringing in his head that was getting louder. He was losing focus, his breaths getting shorter and shorter. Even so, he couldn’t help crying out when they landed a cruel blow between his legs. He had to withstand it. He had to. Hinata had saved his life. He just had to get through this. But they weren’t letting up. They would kill him at this rate. And they had no intention of stopping, he realized. 

Until the door opened admitting another man. A familiar man.

“What’s this?” Kakashi asked, amused. “Someone’s birthday?”

Iruka made the mistake of raising his head slightly and got a kick to his solar plexus for his trouble that left him without air for a long, terrifying minute. 

“Hatake-sama,” Abare greeted pleasantly. “Glad you could make it.” He wiped his blood-streaked knuckles off on his shirt from when he’d split Iruka’s lip before reaching out to shake the other man’s hand. “I thought you were getting here at six.”

Kakashi shrugged and stepped around Iruka, not looking at him. He walked further into the room, heading for the small, but lavish liquor bar and three of the men surrounding Iruka followed. “Well, I figured the earlier I got here, the earlier I could avail myself of your … hospitality. And she was _very_ hospitable,” he added with a wink.

The men laughed and elbowed each other, throwing in their own cherished reminiscences. Iruka wanted to close his eyes, wished it could be as easy to close his ears.

“That reminds me,” Kakashi said abruptly, pouring himself a drink, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, Abare. You know your boss wants me onboard. I thought it might finally be time to have that conversation.”

Abare paused with his foot raised to deliver another kick to Iruka’s midsection. “Really?” His eyes gleamed with greed before caution dampened the glow. “Why now?”

Kakashi opened his mouth, then seemed to remember Iruka and glanced down in distaste. “Let’s not talk about this with extra ears listening in. Get rid of the help.”

Abare jerked his head impatiently at the figure who’d been standing sentry at the shadowed corner of the room, giving the silent command and the young man jumped to attention, grabbing Iruka by the hair and dragging him out the door. And Iruka saw his face for the first time.

“I imagine Tsunade-sama might object to your leaving her employ,” Iruka heard Abare say fishing before Sasuke shoved him down hard onto gleaming black tiles of the hallway. 

“Sasuke-kun-”

The backhand caught him off guard, snapping his head to the side. 

“Don’t be so familiar, servant.”

Iruka turned his head to cough out blood from the cut in his inner cheek. He was getting dizzy and his body clamored with pain. 

“Do you think you can address me that way because of who you used to be? That’s right,” he acknowledged gleefully, “I remember you. So all that crap you used to spout about staying away from places like these was just self-righteous bullshit?” Sasuke smirked. “Who’d have thought you’d wind up working here, huh? See, sensei, money really does talk. It’s just like I told you.”

Iruka shook his head, though it wasn’t doing his scrambled brain any favors. “Sasuke-kun, you’re not like them,” he whispered, so the sound didn’t travel. His hand clutched at his side. He didn’t feel any wetness, which hopefully meant they hadn’t broken skin. “You haven’t done anything irredeemable.”

But the young man grinned and it wasn’t pleasant. “Nothing irredeemable? Do you know how Sakura got here?” He laughed and Iruka closed his eyes against what was coming, knowing even before Sasuke said the words that it was too late to save him.

“I don’t know, sensei. Do you consider that there’s redemption for me after I asked Sakura out on a date and arranged for yakuza to show up instead?”

Iruka didn’t gasp. He didn’t have that much feeling left in him, but he wished he had a knife to cut that arrogant smirk off that self-important face. Sakura-chan. Bright, curious, high-achieving Sakura-chan. He hardly felt the boot that shoved him onto his back. 

“She was my ticket into this place. That’s right,” Sasuke confirmed, pleased with himself. “And it worked on Ino too. God, they were so stupid. You can’t blame me for what happened to them. Anyway, you’re working here,” he added in defense, “and even if you can’t touch you probably get off seeing them naked on their knees, right? Getting pounded on the regular by guys your age or older. Your former students. I always knew you were a sick fuck.” Sasuke gave him one last vicious kick before turning away. 

Iruka grunted at the pain that flared throughout his body, but he refused to cry out this time. There were plenty of good reasons for him to cry. Pain wasn’t one of them.

“You need to learn to mind your own business, old man,” Sasuke called back as he walked away. “Before you get yourself killed.” Just as the door closed he saw Kakashi smiling and talking amicably with the guards. He had a moment of panic then, of fear, but no, Kakashi hadn’t betrayed him. He’d be dead if that were the case, though it wouldn’t surprise him if the other man was playing both sides of the field. Hedging his bets. That was likely. Gai would say it was a given. 

Iruka turned his head and vomited onto the pretty flooring.

 

It was an eternity later that his vision cleared and he realized he’d blacked out. He glanced at his watch in panic but the cheap plastic face was broken, unreadable. How long had he been unconscious? He glanced up, taking a moment to get his bearings as his head spun. The door to the office was still closed so it couldn’t have been long, but he needed to leave. Now. 

The most painful part was gathering the strength to get to his feet. His muscles felt like they’d been put through a grinder. He pushed to his feet but fell - biting back a moan of pain - the moment he put weight on his twisted ankle. It as swollen and tender, hot to the touch. He took a breath and stood again, leaning on the wall for support. This wasn’t the place to take stock of his injuries. He needed to get out.

Did he take the fastest route or the safest? It was no contest, he couldn’t take the elevator with Nakajima due any moment. He turned and limped his painstaking way to the stairs, biting his lips at the agony, uncaring of the blood that spilled down his chin and onto his torn and ragged shirt.

Hinata and Sakura were safe, he reminded himself. That was worth a beating or two, he thought, trying to distract himself from the jarring of his ribs on every step downstairs. He didn’t let himself think about the fact that he hadn’t managed to reach the third-floor landing and already he was short of breath, his legs shaking, threatening to give out underneath him. He couldn’t stop, if he stopped he might not be able to convince himself to move again.

But, god, it was too much. He took three more steps down. Four. Five. And everything spun around him, his vision going dark again until he couldn’t tell where up or down were. He could feel himself falling and grasped out wildly.

“You’re okay. We have you.”

He blinked open his eyes wondering if he’d blacked out again. “Ino-chan?” Oops, he wasn’t supposed to call her that. Why? He didn’t remember. Not important now.

“You’re okay, sensei.” She sounded close to tears, so unlike her usual tough-girl attitude.

“I’m okay,” he agreed, trying to comfort. He still groaned when she threw his arm over her shoulder, hauling him to his feet. “Get his other side, idiot!” she hissed and he realized Sakura was there as well, holding him propped against her side. 

“Shove it, pig. Don’t give me orders!”

Good god. Could these girls not stop arguing for one second?

Sakura snuck a glance at him from under her lashes and grimaced. “Let’s get him out of here before he dies.”

_Ah, yes. These are the sweet children I’m willing to sacrifice my life for_ , he thought amused. The amusement had more to do with one too many kicks to the head rather than mirth. 

“You’re such a bitch,” Ino said, almost admiringly. “He’s in this state because of you.”

Iruka would have argued but Sakura glared and yanked him forward just then, jarring his ribs so that he had to fight to get his breath back. All three of them focused their energy on getting him downstairs after that, nearly tripping and taking a nosedive at one point but the girls were surprisingly strong and they steadied him. The double doors on the first floor landing were thrown open before they’d touched them and Hinata rushed forward.

“Ino-san, the manager is asking for you.” She wrung her hands and looked away. “A client …” She swallowed.

Iruka’s hand tightened involuntarily on Ino’s shoulder but of course she had to go. To disobey would mean terrible punishment. He pulled his arm away and she nodded at him, leaving without another word, head held high. 

He stepped forward, nearly collapsing and Hinata jumped in. “Let me help. I have the bathroom ready with supplies.”

The three of them managed to shuffle awkwardly to the far end of the employee break area, pausing when Ayame walked through the door. She stared, eyes wide, hands going to her mouth to stifle a gasp. 

“Get out,” Sakura growled viciously, hand tightening protectively on Iruka’s arm as Iruka blinked at her in consternation. She and Hinata helped him past the secretary and into the bathroom, supporting either side of him as Ayame beat a hasty retreat. “Why did you do that!?” Sakura hissed out furiously, unexpectedly, as soon as the woman was out of earshot. “I was going to--”

“Get yourself killed,” Iruka bit back, not in the mood to sugarcoat it or play it off, sucking in a sharp breath as they lowered him onto the toilet seat. “You’d be dead right now, Sakura-chan.”

He’d meant to snap her out of her ridiculous idea of taking on Nakajima, but there was no rationality in her eyes. 

“Dead is better than this place,” she said finally, making chills spring run down Iruka’s back. There was no doubt, no hesitation in her tone.

“Sensei,” his gaze snapped to Hinata and he must have looked quite a sight because she flinched. “I need to ….” she indicated his chest vaguely and he frowned.

Sakura sighed. “Hinata wants to check you over. See if anything’s broken,” she explained. “You should let her, she’s got enough practice.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “If you’re sure, I would appreciate it, Hinata-chan.”

The girl, still shy, ready to startle back at a sharp movement, smiled tremulously and began to undo the buttons on his shirt for which he was grateful because it was all he could do to hang on to the edge of the toilet without falling over.

He couldn’t help the low groan as she pressed in on his ribs, knuckles white as he tried to hold on to consciousness while not upending his guts. “Hinata-chan,” he ground out hoarsely, “I don’t think I can--”

“They’re not broken,” she whispered, pulling away. “Definitely bruised, and maybe even fractured, but not broken.” She reached for the roll of bandages at her elbow. “That is good news,” she said reassuringly. 

Right. And he was going to jump for joy as soon as he could jump again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Sakura snorted. Despite her hard gaze, she was gentle as she wet a hand towel and wiped at the blood that trickled down his forehead and the dried blood on his chin. 

“Sakura-chan,” he said slowly. “Be patient. Please. Just … hang on a little longer.”

“Hang on,” she repeated, seeming to think about the words. “Hang on.” She laughed. “Do you know what that means for me?”

Iruka opened his mouth, but she didn’t give him time to speak.

“I want to die,” she said simply, starkly. He saw Hinata’s head bow, but she seemed unsurprised by her friend’s words. “That’s all I want. So I might as well take that monster with me.”

Iruka’s heart hammered against his chest and he reached forward and clasped her hand tightly. “Sakura-chan, you can’t kill Nakajima. He’s too well-guarded. They’ll torture you and then kill you all without giving you a second thought.”

He expected Sakura to argue, but she blinked at him in astonishment instead. “Nakajima?” 

Iruka blinked stupidly, then immediately reassessed, adapting for new information. _Oh, Sakura_. “You weren’t trying to get to Nakajima.”

She shook her head, eyes terribly blank. She’d had such friendly, dancing eyes once. 

“Sasuke,” he guessed, throat dry.

“Why did you save my life?” she asked harshly, instead of responding, jerking her hand out of his. “You nearly got yourself killed.”

Hinata paused in the process of wrapping his ribs, eyes downcast, listening. 

Iruka sighed and rubbed tiredly at eyes before wincing at the stab of pain. Right. He probably had a black eye. Or more than one. At least it’d be a matching pair. And wasn’t purple in this season? “Guess some habits die hard,” he finally murmured teasingly, remembering the day he’d spent three hours traipsing the whole school with her, top to bottom. She had been inconsolable because she’d lost the brand new phone her mom had bought for her. When he’d found it she’d yelled, _You saved my life! I’ll never forget it, sensei!_ Who’d have ever thought they’d both wind up here?

Sakura looked confused for a second, then smiled, a twitch, like she’d forgotten how to do it, and he knew she’d remembered. It was the only honest smile he’d seen from her in that place. But it was gone too soon. “Dying is exactly what you’re going to wind up doing too if you don’t give up your humanity,” she said, standing and tossing the rag she’d been using to wipe up the blood into the sink. “I owe you for this. And I pay my debts, but after that, we’re done. Stay the hell away from me.”

“Sakura--” he stood, but the pain of his ribs and the wooziness of his head had the room tilting sharply and he smacked into the wall to his right as he tried to find purchase.

Small, delicate hands steadied him until he could stand on his own. 

“Thank you, Hinata-chan,” he murmured when he could breathe semi-normally again. He rubbed his chin against the top of her head as she clung to him, tears flowing freely from her eyes. She was holding him too tightly, making his ribs protest but he would sooner bite off his tongue than deny her the scrap of affection and reassurance she sought. “Thank you.”

 

Iruka woke jarringly with a gasp on his lips. Shit. He shifted only to groan and freeze as his ribs protested loudly, pain battering his sides anew and that was when the low, rhythmic knocking that had woken him filtered into his awareness. Fuck, he thought, heart slamming against his ribs. Had he been followed? He’d been pretty out of it on the ride home. He took a breath and forced himself to think rationally. It wouldn’t be Nakajima’s men. They wouldn’t waste time knocking. That left three other possibilities. And he prayed it wasn’t Gai. He couldn’t deal with Gai’s overprotectiveness now. 

He made his slow, painful way to the door, wishing the damn thing had a peephole and flicked the deadbolt, keeping the chain in place. 

It was somehow entirely unsurprising to find Kakashi standing on the other side. He held that neutral gaze for a moment before closing the door to disengage the chain. 

Kakashi didn’t speak as he stepped inside. His gaze was locked on the no doubt colorful shiner he was sporting. 

Iruka stepped back and motioned for Kakashi to enter without a word. He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t in the mood to try and guess the reason for Kakashi’s visit. Was the man going to criticize his ability to take a beating? Judge him for getting involved? Berate him for not-

His brain ground to a halt as Kakashi raised a hand and cupped the side of Iruka’s face, thumb gently, so very gently, brushing over his cheek in a bewildering caress. 

Iruka blinked at him in astonishment, more so when Kakashi breathed out harshly and stepped forward, tenderly enveloping Iruka in his arms, burying one hand softly in his hair and pulling Iruka’s head onto his shoulder.

He stood frozen, unable to compute what was happening. Kakashi didn’t do this. Kakashi wasn’t tender, he didn’t care. He could feel his eyes fill with unshed tears. It was a ploy. It had to be because anything else …

He buried his head against Kakashi’s shoulder, arms moving of their own volition to clutch at the other man’s back and Kakashi’s own arms tightened around him, making his various abrasions and lacerations protest, but he didn’t care because he needed it, needed to feel grounded and Kakashi seemed to understand, arms firm and strong around him, surrounding him. 

And it was weakness. Nothing but the weakness of the moment that made him feel safe for the first time in over a year. Because he wasn’t safe. Not with this man. Not ever with this man.

But he didn’t push him away.

 

They stood in that tableau for long minutes and Iruka forgave himself for needing comfort. He wasn’t up to analyzing the part of him that clamored for this man’s arms and no one else’s because wanting Kakashi in anything other than a physical sense would be beyond crazy. It would be suicidal. 

The older man drew back slightly, still with that disconcerting warmth, and took Iruka’s hands in his. What was it about Kakashi that made him feel as though he’d lacked human contact for too long? As though no one had held his hands before. It had to be too many hits to the head messing with his emotions. God, he hoped it was just too many hits to the head. 

“Here,” Kakashi murmured after a beat. He was holding out two plain white pills in one hand. 

Iruka looked at them but his brain was going offline again. Every inch of him felt like it had been beaten by a bat. Breathing had become an exercise in pain. 

“Iruka,” Kakashi murmured, placing two fingers under his chin to raise his head. He studied Iruka’s eyes and sighed. “You need rest, but you can’t rest if you’re in pain. Take these.”

“What are they?” he asked even as he swayed on his feet.

“They’re what’ll get you through the night. Come on.” He pulled, coaxing Iruka along to the bedroom and lowered him slowly onto the futon but Iruka still gasped and paled as everything jostled. “Shh. Shh,” Kakashi gentled, running a careful hand down Iruka’s arm. He stood and walked out the door and Iruka would have protested if he’d had the breath to do it.

He swallowed against the whimper that wanted to escape, but he could do nothing about the tears that slowly seeped from his eyes. Well, at least the bedroom was dark. No one would see. He was allowed to be weak for a moment, wasn’t he? He’d be strong again tomorrow. He’d walk back into the jaws of the beast again tomorrow, but tonight--

He startled at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Just me,” Kakashi murmured. He kneeled and placed a supporting hand at the back of Iruka’s neck and lifted his head. “Open your mouth, Iruka.”

Iruka blinked at the other, trying to make sense of his words.

“Please. Trust me.”

Stupid. So stupid but his mouth obeyed without input from his brain and he felt the two small pills deposited onto his tongue. Kakashi raised a glass of water to his lips and he swallowed obediently. _I’ll be strong tomorrow_ , he promised.

“I’ve never known anyone stronger than you,” he was shocked to hear as Kakashi carefully lowered his head onto the pillow again. Had he been talking out loud? “May I stay with you tonight, Iruka?”

No. He wasn’t that far gone. Kakashi was a threat. And it wasn’t because he was a killer. That strange streak of playfulness and humor sprinkled with kindness and shot through with ruthlessness and competence was devastating Iruka’s defenses in ways he would never have predicted. By all rights, he should have been disgusted by Kakashi. He wasn’t. 

“Please,” Kakashi added, voice low, timbre resonating in a way that made something inside Iruka shiver in answer.

Good god, what had the man given him? There was no way he was going to-- He swallowed, even that tiny action radiating hurt. “Yes,” he whispered, closing his eyes tightly, refusing to think about what this would mean.

There was no verbal answer from the other man, only a warm, calloused hand that took his, lips that kissed his knuckles, making his fingers curl. 

Kakashi stood and Iruka could make out the sounds of him undressing through the ever-thicker haze clouding his mind. There was a reason Kakashi shouldn’t stay… there had been a reason .... something about the apartment ... 

He shivered at the sudden warmth at his back, not realizing until then how cold he’d been. He moaned and Kakashi jerked back, thinking he must have hurt him, but Iruka reached a hand out blindly and pulled him close again.

Slowly, Kakashi settled against his back once more, carefully negotiating angles and tender areas. “Don’t let me hurt you,” he breathed against Iruka’s hair as the younger man was fading into unconsciousness. “Don’t ever let me hurt you.”

And Iruka thought he must have dreamed the feel of warm fingers stroking through his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Shakespeare's _King Lear_


End file.
